I'm gonna give you some background 'fore I start. That way you can understand some of the stuff in my story.

      Well, first off, I'm a girl. I've got long black hair that goes to the middle of my back. It tends to curl sometimes. I've got dark brown eyes, too. I've got lots of Greek blood in me, by the way, a bit of Italian and Indian blood in there, too, kinda all mixed up in there. I used to live in New Orleans with my kumpania. We were Rom, or Gypsies as most people call us. Most people don't think of Gypsies in America, but there's a few of us.

      My mother was a seer. My father was a protector. My aunt was a medicine woman. My uncle was a medicine man. It goes on from there, so I'll just shorten the list.

      Legend has it that if anyone in the clan dies, his powers or knowledge are transferred to his closest living relative. Also powers can be inherited from birth. I've had the powers of a seer and a protector since birth. I've never really put much faith in that belief. I just thought I was a real quick learner and had real strong instincts, which actually could've been true.

      One night, someone came into our camp and attacked everyone. They killed our Rom Baro, our chief, and the kris, the tribal of elders, first. Many of my family tried to ask Del, our god, for help. My father tried to fight them off, but one of them had a gun. He shot my father.

      They started to set our camp on fire. They killed everyone. My mother told me to run. She knew I could protect myself, but she knew something else. She was the seer of our clan. She knew they'd all die, so she told me to run. I did as I was told.

      I ran for days. Then, in Baton Rouge, I ran into him, the leader of the band that killed my family. He saw me, and I ran again. I ran to the train yards. I jumped on the first train I saw that was leaving immediately. The train went to Atlanta.

      I stayed in Atlanta for a few days. I swiped some pants and some button-down shirts to wear. I changed from my Gypsy attire into them. I hoped it'd make it harder for him to find me, but he did anyway.
      I jumped on another train and headed north. This train went to Philadelphia. I hoped he wouldn't find me there, but he did. I began to wonder if he had some way to track me. He couldn't possibly. Unless he paid people a lot a money to tell him where I'd gone, and they'd guessed right.

      So I took off running again. I crossed through to New Jersey. I knew he was still on my heals. I just ran faster. I really didn't know where I was going. I just hoped I was getting away from him.

      I found my way to some place called Staten Island. There were more people there than there'd been in New Orleans. I'd never seen so many people in one place 'fore, especially on the streets.

      I continued running down the streets. I could feel him behind me. I looked behind me for a split second and smacked right into something. It knocked me down to the ground. I looked up to see what wall I had run into. It was no wall; it was a large, burly boy.

      "What's wrong wit' ya, goyl?" the boy asked, obviously mad that I'd run into him.

      "Sorry, kid, but I got more important things ta worry 'bout," I replied irritably. I'd learned English when I was little. Momma and Poppa said it'd be better if I knew more than only Romany, our language.

      I turned and started down the street. 'Fore I could get too far, I ran into something else. I looked up and saw him.

      "I been lookin' all ovah fer ya. Where ya been?" he asked gruffly, grabbing hold of me.

      I struggled. "Anywhere but wit' you," I yelled and broke free.

      He grabbed me again. I did a switch-kick and knocked him off of me. He stumbled backward. He tried to fight back. I did a spinning kick and knocked him off his feet. Then we moved to punching. He hit me in the stomach. I punched him in the jaw. We fought each other for several minutes. I found a board and knocked him upside the head with it. He spun into the wall and fell to the ground. He was unconscious now.

      "Finally," I breathed.

      I walked over to the other guy I'd run into before. He looked at me with astonishment. I don't think he'd ever seen anyone fight like that before, let alone a girl.

      "Look, kid, do me a favor. When 'e wakes up, tell 'im ya saw me go ta the train yards. Tell 'im anythin'. If 'e asks, 'n' I sure 'e will, tell 'im ya saw me hop on a train ta St. Louis," I said.

      "What's in it fer me?" he asked, a little suspicious.

      I glanced back at the unconscious man, then back at the boy in front of me. "Anythin' ya want," I replied.

      He appeared to think about it. "Da name's Duke. Duke McClintock. Meet me at da cornah a South Ave. 'n' Merril at six. Till den, I'se'll keep 'im off yer tail," he said.

      I nodded. "Fine. Me name's Mac. I'll see ya then," I replied.

      "Deal," he said, spitting in his palm.

      I looked at him oddly, but I did need his help. "Deal," I said and spit in my own palm. We shook hands. I thought that was a little gross, but I wansn't going to argue with him, not now.

      I let go of his hand and turned away. I ran off down the street and climbed up the fire escape of a nearby building. I could see Duke and him clearly from the roof. I saw him wake up. Duke was selling papers, I think. He walked up to Duke and talked with him. Then I saw Duke point off down the street in the opposite direction that I'd run. He ran off in that direction.

      I sighed with relief. "Thanks, Duke. Now, what could ya possibly want fer that?" I said quietly, having a decent idea.

      I stepped away from the edge of the roof. I walked back over to the fire escape and climbed down to the street. I found an open store close by. I opened the door and walked inside. I must've looked really bad, 'cause no one paid any attention to me.

      "'Scuse me, mister, could ya tell me where the corner a South Ave. 'n' Merril is?" I asked.

      The store keeper looked at me. "It's three blocks down," he started, pointing up the street, "then turn left, and it's another four blocks."

      "Thanks, mister," I said and turned to leave. "Oh, sir, could ya also tell me what the time is?"

      The man looked at his watch. "Quarter past five," he answered.

      "Thanks," I said and left.

      I turned up the street. It was five-fifteen; I had forty-five minutes to find this corner. I started on my way. I walked pretty quickly, but I wasn't in any hurry. I walked a few blocks 'fore I decided that I was hungry. I found a small restaurant and went inside. I found my way to the bathroom. I walked in and looked at myself in the mirror.

      "I look real bad," I said to myself in Romany.

      I tucked my hair into my shirt and turned on the sink. I rinsed my hands in the running water. I found some soap and lathered it up in my hands. I washed my hands and arms with it. Then I rinsed the soap off.

      I got some more soap on my hands and washed my face up; it was really filthy. Then I rinsed the soap and water off my face. I ran my wet fingers through my hair, getting them snagged a couple of times on snarls. I looked at myself again in the mirror. I looked better, but I still looked like a waif. I shrugged and dried myself off.

      I walked out of the bathroom and found my way to an empty table. A waiter came over to me.

      "What kin I get ya, miss?" he asked.

      "Uh, how's about some coffee 'n' one a them sandwiches that man there's got," I said, pointing to a man at the next table.

      He nodded and scratched some stuff down on his notepad. "Dat all?" he asked and looked back at me.

      "Yup," I answered.

      He nodded again and left. I waited at my table and looked around. I found a menu on the wall. Coffee was five cents, and the sandwich was ten. Fifteen cents. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a quarter. The waiter came back quickly with my coffee.

      "Thanks," I said. I picked up the coffee and took a sip. It was bitter. I found some sugar on the table. I dumped some into the cup. I took another sip; it was much better.

      The waiter came with my sandwich. He set it down in front of me. "Anythin' else?" he asked.

      "Nope."

      "Here's the bill," he said, setting a piece of paper down next to me.

      "Right," I said, looking at my sandwich. I picked it up and started eating it. It was good. I took another sip of coffee.

      I finished up the sandwich in about ten minutes. I guessed it was about quarter to six by now. I set the quarter on top of the bill. The waiter came to claim it shortly. I finished my coffee while I waited for my change. He brought me a dime back. I slipped it into my pocket and brought two pennies out. I dropped them on the table and stood up. Then I left the restaurant.

      I walked to the end of the block and then turned left, like the shop keeper had said. I walked the couple of blocks to South Ave. I walked slowly. I didn't want to be too early.

      When I was about half a block from South Ave., I saw Duke waiting. He saw me walking toward him. I stepped up my pace a little. I walked up to him and looked him right in the face.

      "Well, I'm here. What's yer payment?" I said, a bit uncomfortable.

      "Follah me," he said. He then turned up South Ave. I followed him.

      We walked slowly. The sun was going down. I wondered what exactly he wanted, but I had a clue. He walked into a building. I followed him. He walked up the stairs; I still followed. He walked to the end of the hallway and stopped at the last door. He opened it and ushered me inside. I stepped in, and he came in after me.

      "Duke, what's yer payment?" I asked again, turning to face him in the dark room.

      Duke looked at me. "I'se nevah met no one like ya, Mac," he said. "Yer so goigeous 'n' powahful. You'se da best fightah I'se evah seen. I want a night wit' ya, Mac. I don't wants it as payment. Considah yer debt paid by showin' up at South Ave."

      I looked at him. I'd considered this as something he'd want, but I hadn't considered him really liking me. "Duke, if that's what ya want, then that's what you'll get," I replied, nodding my head.

      Duke stepped closer ta me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me. I kissed him back. I linked my hands behind his head; I had to make it convincing. He began to undress me.

      "Fergive me, Mother," I said silently in Romany.

      I knew it was forbidden, doing this with a gaje, an outsider, but I owed him my life. Tradition forbade me to do anything more than superficial things with the gaje, but I wasn't with my kumpania any more. I had to live in this world without them. Survival's more important.

Later that night, it was close to eleven, I lay in bed with Duke. His arm was around me, and he was asleep. I looked at him to make sure. He was dead asleep.

I climbed out of bed and pulled my clothes back on. I left the room silently. Duke was still asleep.

I walked down the dark hallway and found the stairs at the end. I descended them quickly, a few creaked. I paused to hear if anyone'd woken up, but no one had. I continued out to the street.

The street was quiet. There was a few people wandering around, but most were drunk. I stayed in the shadows. I slinked down the street.

I found a clothing store. I went down the alley next to it and into the back. I picked the lock and swung the door open. I stepped into the dark store.

I rummaged around quietly for some clothes. I found a hat like the one Duke wore. I grabbed another shirt and some suspenders. I found a pocket watch on a counter; I grabbed it and stuffed it into my pocket. I grabbed a pair a shoes, too; the ones I had were heals, and they wouldn't do for a guy. I swiped some pants, too. I grabbed a cloth sack from the corner and stuffed the clothes into it. I snuck back out and shut the door quietly.

I ran down the alley and back into the street. I ran up the street till I found a bridge. I ran across it and into the new city. I found out later that it wasn't really another city. It was Brooklyn.

I found another alley and walked into it. I set my bag down and sat down next to it. I changed quickly. I wore both shirts and had them both tucked into my pants. My suspenders hung down to my knees. I pulled the pocket watch out and attached it to my pants. I was now dressed like a boy, as best I could anyway. I stuffed all my old clothes into the sack.

I went back to the street. I walked up the street and turned left on another street. I found a cemetery and walked into it. I found an open burial vault.

I went inside and hid my stuff in an empty coffin. I walked back out and found the key still in the door. I shut the door and locked it, pulling the key out afterwards. I shoved the key in my pocket. I ran out of the cemetery in the direction I hadn't come. I didn't really want to spend the night in a tomb.

I walked on the outskirts of a park, keeping my eyes peeled for people. I didn't want to get confronted badly. I walked on to a square. The park bordered the square. I found some place to sleep right there in the park. Then I went to sleep.

I woke up the next day a little after dawn. I crawled out of the bushes and saw some boys walking down the street. They all looked like me, like waifs. I started toward them. I followed them through the square to the center.

A man in a carriage came shortly. The boys began to get in line. I'd found my way to the middle of the group, so some of the boys went in front of me, some in back.

The boys began to pay the man coins in exchange for newspapers. These boys were newsies. I waited for my turn. I fished out my dime from the day 'fore. When it was my turn, I handed the man my dime.

"How many?" he asked.

"Whatever that'll get me," I answered, holding out the dime.

He looked at the dime. "Twenty," he said to the man behind him. The guy handed me a stack a papers.

I took them. "Thanks," I said and counted them. "Hey, wait a minute. There's 18 here. I paid ya fer 20," I said, a little annoyed.

"Come on; git outta heah," the man said.

"Gimme my papers, 'n' I will," I retorted.

"He said git outta heah," the other man said.

"Gimme my papers."

"Hey, hey, hey, what's goin' on heh'?" a boy with red suspenders asked, walking up behind me.

I turned to face him. "Mind yer own business, boy," I said, a bit condescending. I turned back to the men in the wagon. "I'm not goin' nowhere till I get me papers," I stated.

The boys behind me were beginning to get impatient. "Git outta heh', kid," the red-suspendered boy said.

I turned back to him. "I tol'ja ta mind yer own business," I said maliciously.

He took a step back. I turned back to the men in the wagon. I gave them the same look.

"Heah- Heah," the other man said, handing me a few papers.

I smiled. "Thank you," I said pleasantly. I took my papers and went across the square. I sat down on the curb. I began to read the headlines, thinking of what I’d say to make people buy them.

The red-suspendered boy walked over to me. “Listen, kid, don’t go doin’ dat no more,” he started.

I looked up at him. “Doin’ what? Gittin’ ma money’s worth?” I scoffed. I set my papers down on the curb next to me and picked up the top one to read.

"Gittin' 'em all mad at cha. It ain't good fer da rest a us," he clarified.

I looked at him again. "Whatta ya gonna do 'bout it? Ban me from sellin' papes?" I said.

"If it comes ta dat."

I rolled my eyes and stood. "Look, kid, lemme tell ya this: it really ain't wise ta get me angry at ya. So, jist lemme leave, 'n' I won't bother ya none," I said.

I picked up my papers and started to leave. Two large boys stood in my way. I turned to my left. Two more boys stood in my way. I turned back to the red-suspendered boy for an explanation.

"Don't git all in a huff now, kid. Jist don't be doin' dat no more," he warned.

"If I don't, then what? What're ya gonna do ta me?" I taunted.

He cracked his knuckles. "Den ya gotta go t'rough me," he said.

"Oh, really?" I challenged.

"Yeah," he said, ready for whatever I could give him.

"Uh-hunh," I mumbled.

I looked down at the ground, then back up at him, right into his eyes. He never saw it coming. I did a front switch-kick up to the side of his face. He was knocked off his feet instantly, falling to the ground. The other boys stared at me with disbelief. I mumbled something in Romany and walked away.

I found a corner and started calling out headlines. People bought them from me, and I called out more headlines. I started walking down the street, calling out headlines the whole way. People continued to buy them, and I finished with my twenty papers quickly.

When I was done with my papers, I started ta do some sight-seeing. I'd never been here 'fore, so it was all new to me. I needed to learn my way around a bit, too. I didn't want to be caught off-guard.

I was walking along, minding my own business when someone grabbed me. I struggled violently, but somehow he managed to knock me out. I don't really know what happened after that; I was unconscious. I guess my foresight wasn't strong enough yet.

I woke up in a dimly lit room. I was laying on a mattress on the floor. I sat up and looked around. There was a trunk against the wall next to the mattress. There was a cupboard and a stove on the far wall. A mirror on a crate sat next to that. Near the foot of the mattress, there was a small table.

I stood up and stretched. My head hurt. Those boys must've really hit me hard. I saw my hat on the mattress. It must've fallen off when I'd stood up. I picked it up and replaced it on my head, hiding my hair. I walked to the middle of the room and looked around again. The door opened behind me. I turned to see who was there.

"Ah, you'se awake," the boy said. He was mostly in shadow so I couldn't see him too well.

"Yeah, whatever. Can I go, er is there a point ta my abduction? You workin' wit' 'im?" I asked.

The boy stepped out of the shadows; it was the boy with the red suspenders. "Woikin' wit' who?" he asked.

I sighed irritably. "Okay, maybe yer not workin' wit' 'im. How 'bout this: ya workin' wit' Duke?" I asked.

"Duke? Duke McClintock?" he asked, looking for clarification.

"Did 'e pay ya ta bring me back?" I accused.

"Bring ya back?" he asked. He was really confused.

"Awright, awright, enough a this. Why'm I here? Why'd you knock me out 'n' bring me here?"

The boy looked at me. "Da name's Spot Conlon. You'se here 'cause ya kicked me dis mornin'," he answered.

"Oh, well, then, sorry 'bout that, but ya were in ma way," I retorted.

"Was I? Sorry, den. I guess dat makes it all right den," he said sarcastically. "What's yer name, kid?"

"Mac."

"Well, Mac, I'se nevah seen no one fight like dat. How'd ja loin dat?"

"From my kumpania," I replied. Spot looked confused. "I'm a Gypsy. My father was the protector of our kumpania. He taught it ta me."

"Really? Where's dere Gypsies?"

"New Orleans."

"Why'd ya ask if I woiked fer Duke?" he asked.

"I ran inta 'im yestahday," I replied; "he got someone off me back."

"How'd 'e do dat?" he asked. He sat down on the crate and looked at me.

"'Cause 'e told 'im that I'd gone ta St. Louis. I paid 'im back; 'e won't tell no one 'bout me."

"How'd ya do dat?"

"What is this? 20 Questions? Fine, fine, I'll tell ya only this: he's happy wit' my payment," I said with an emotionless face.

Spot raised an eyebrow. "What'd ya pay 'im wit'?" he asked, slightly amused.

I looked at him. "I ain't tellin' you!" I exclaimed angrily. "Can I go, er d'ya still need me here?"

Spot stood up. "Listen, Mac, we gots an extra bunk 'ere. If ya want it, ya got it," he said.

I thought for a minute. I do need a place to stay. Should I stay with a bunch of boys? Should I tell him I'm a girl? Will Duke come to look for me here? Will Duke try to fight for me? What'd Spot think if he knew? My mind filled with questions.

"Mac? Whatta ya say?"

I bit my lip. "Yeah, sure. I'll stay here, but I got one condition. Don't antagonize me. It ain't healthy. When I kicked ya this mornin', that was nothin'. I can fight much harder 'n' much longer."

"I'd like ta see that some time," he said.

"Maybe ya will. Maybe ya won't. But, fer now, I'd like ta get me some food. I ain't eaten since last night," I said.

Spot nodded. "Right. I gotta meet some friends in Manhattan. Ya wanna come wit' me?" he said.

"Sure, what the heck. I got nothin' better ta do," I answered.

"Come on, den," he said, heading for the door. I followed him.

We walked out of the room and down a set of stairs. We walked through a main room with bunches of bunks. There were bunches of guys hanging out there. They all watched me follow Spot out. We then walked down the street toward Manhattan. I would guess so anyway; I don't know.

Part 2