You Can't Hide Forever

The girl stood only a few feet from the old man. She wore a long brown skirt and a gray shirt. Her long auburn hair was pulled half up, much of it hung in her face. Her green eyes shone with anger and contempt for the old man. She was an extremely brave girl for her age, standing up to a man like she was.

The old man wore a black three-piece suit. He stood a good foot taller than the girl, who stood only five feet tall. The man had a short gray beard and short gray hair; glasses perched on his nose. His angry brown eyes looked at the girl.

"You never let me do anything!" the girl screamed as loud as she possibly could.

"If you'd obey me, you could do whatever you wanted," the old man yelled back at her.

"I'll never obey yer rules. They're stupid rules, and I'll never follow them!" the girl retorted loudly.

"You'd better or you'll be getting exactly what you deserve," the man threatened.

"You haven't got the guts," the girl challenged. The man's face hardened and he stepped closer to her. He smacked her across the face. The girl fell to the floor with the force of the blow. She clutched her face in pain.

"You'll do as I tell you or you'll be sorry," the man said and left the room in a huff.

"NEVER!" the girl screamed after him, propping herself up a little with her arms. She flattened herself to the floor and lay there for a few moments longer. The only thing that showed that the man had ever been there at all was the red handprint left on her face.

After a few minutes, she went to the window and watched a carriage pull away with the man inside. She walked out of the room and into the man's office. She closed the double doors of the office--so she wouldn't be disturbed--and went to the desk. She pulled out a key that she'd stolen from the old man the night before.

"Okay, Joe, what've ya got in here?" she asked herself out-loud.

The girl put the key into the lock of a drawer and turned it. The lock clicked. She opened the drawer and pulled out a wooden box. The box wasn't locked so she just flipped it open simply. She riffled through the papers in the box; finally finding a thick envelope. She pulled it out and set the box on the desk. Then she sat down in the desk chair.

"Well, well, well, what have we here," she said as she opened the envelope, knowing already what was inside.

The envelope was filled with money. The girl pulled out more than half of the bills and put the envelope back exactly where it was. Then she put the box back in the drawer. She shut the drawer and locked it back up. She slipped the money into her pocket and straightened up the desk. Then she left his office and went up to her room.

When the girl got to her room, she quickly shut the door. She then pulled out a sack and put it on her bed. She got a few changes of clothes from her closet and stuffed them into the sack, along with a small bag full of the money she’d just taken. She went to her desk and got all of her coins, about two dollars worth, and put most of it in her pocket. The rest she put into her sack.

She tied up the sack and slung it over her shoulder. Then she walked over to the window and opened it quietly. She was sure the servants would hear it otherwise. She climbed out onto the ledge and shut the window just as quietly. Her room was on the top floor, so she was about thirty or forty feet from the ground. Only about three feet, from where she stood, to the roof. She threw the sack up onto the roof and then climbed up herself. She had very strong arms and climbed up easily, though her long skirt got in the way a little.

On the roof she picked up her sack and walked over to the fire escape. She climbed down to ground level quickly. She was sure to avoid the windows as best she could. Most of the servants watched her very carefully. They knew that if they didn’t, they would surely be fired, or worse. She got to ground level, and, as quickly as she could, she ran off the property. She never wanted to be near that house again.

About an hour later, the girl found herself in Greeley Square, or sometimes referred to as Newspaper Row, with a large statue of Horace Greeley in the center. She looked around and saw no one. It was very late at night, and it was to be expected. Most other people would be asleep or at least at home at this hour. The girl saw a sign above one building. It read "Newsboys Lodging House." She smiled. She walked over to the building and went inside.

Inside, she didn't see any newsies. They must all have been asleep. She did, however, see an elderly man sitting behind a desk doing his books.

"Excuse me, sir," she said as she approached him.

The man looked up. "Yes miss, what kin I do fer ya?" he asked pleasantly.

"I was wonderin’ if I might git a room er a bunk fer da night. I can surely pay ya fer it. I just needs a place ta stay tanight," she answered, imitating the accents of the newsies she’d heard so often.

"Sure thing. If ya don't mind stayin' in da same room as a pack of newsboys," the man said with a small smile. He stepped out from behind the desk.

"No, sir, that'd be just fine. Thank ya very much, really," she said gladly.

"Me name's Kloppman. I run da Lodgin' House. Come wit’ me, and we'll get ya a bunk." Kloppman motioned for her to follow him, and they went upstairs to the bunkroom. In the bunkroom, all the newsies were asleep, just as she’d predicted. Kloppman walked over to an empty bunk, and the girl followed him.

"Ya kin sleep here tonight. Pay me in da mornin' and jist get some sleep. Oh, I didn't catch yer name," Kloppman said quietly as he turned to leave. He turned back to face her, to wait for her answer.

"Thanks, Kloppman. It’s Harlequinn, uh, Harley," the girl replied.

Kloppman just nodded and said, "Sleep well, Harley."

Then he left and Harley got ready for bed. Harley pulled off her clothes and put her pajamas on quickly. Then she slipped under the sheets and promptly fell asleep.

The next morning, Kloppman walked up the stairs and into the bunkroom like he did every morning. He walked over to one of the bunks and yelled, "Boots!"

The receiver of the name, Boots, was jarred awake. He rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Geez, Kloppman, d'ya have ta do dat ever' mornin’?" he asked and yawned widely.

Kloppman just smiled and continued waking up the rest of the boys. "Wake up! Wake up, boys. Time to sell da papers. Wake up! Wake up!" he said as he walked from bunk to bunk.

The boys got up slowly and a few jumped out of bed. They were really ready to sell the papers that morning. The boys all got up and went into the washroom. Some took quick showers, some shaved, most brushed their hair, but all dressed quickly.

When most of the boys had finished getting dressed, they began to walk out of the bunkroom, only to be stopped by a girl in the doorway. Only one newsie had seen her, and he had stopped short so he didn’t run into her. The others plowed right into him and nearly knocked him over.

"Whatta ya stoppin' fer, Race?" one asked.

The newsie who'd stopped, Race, pointed to the doorway. "Her," he answered. He had dark hair and dark eyes. He also had a cigar in his shirt pocket. The newsies all looked at the girl standing in the doorway.

"Good face ta see in da mornin'," one of the newsies whispered to the others. Several of them laughed at the joke.

The girl just rolled her eyes. She let it go. "I'm lookin' fer Jack Kelly. Any of ya seen 'him?" she asked. She scanned the group.

"We ain't neva hoid a no Jack Kelly," one boy, Blink, said. He wore a patch over his right eye and had blond hair and blue eyes.

"Dat's an unusual name fer dese parts," a newsie named Specs commented. He wore glasses in front of his brown eyes. He had brown hair underneath a black derby. The girl just looked at them both, annoyed. She obviously didn't buy it.

"Oh ya mean Jack Kelly. Yeah, he was here, but made like da wind an’ blew," Race said. Everyone laughed at his joke, except the girl.

The girl walked over to Race and looked him straight in the face. "Oh, really. Why don't you make like a tree and leave," she said wearily.

At the back of the crowd, in the washroom, Jack was splashing water on his face. He took a towel and dried his face. Then he heard a familiar voice, the girl's voice. He grabbed his red bandanna and tied it around his neck. Then he left the washroom and peered above the crowd. He could only see the back of girl's head, not her face. She was turned away from where he was standing.

"Look, I ain't playin' dese games wit'cha. Tell me where I can find him," the girl said sternly.

"We told ya, we ain't neva heard a no Jack Kelly," Mush reminded. He had olive skin, dark hair, and dark eyes. The girl turned to look at Mush. Jack could now see her face. The girl opened her mouth to say something.

"Hey, wait," Jack said from the back of the crowd. All the newsies turned to look at Jack, obviously astonished.

"What're ya crazy, Cowboy?" came several of the newsies responses, obviously hushed voices. Jack just looked at them and pushed his way through the crowd. The girl just looked at him. She waited for him to get through the crowd.

"It's been a long time," Jack said as he reached the girl.

"Too long if ya ask me," the girl replied, showing no emotion whatsoever.

Then Jack smiled, spit in his hand, and extended it. "Nice ta see ya again, Harley," he said.

Harley smiled and returned the spit-shake. "Sure is, Jackey-boy, sure is," she said with a smile. The other newsies just looked at them confusedly.

"Whatta ya doin' here? Joe's gonna kill ya," Jack said.

Harley shrugged. "Probably," she said. "But he hasn't yet," she added with a smile after several seconds of dead silence. She and Jack both started laughing.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Race interrupted. "Ya know ‘er?"

"Yeah, we'se old friends," Jack answered.

"From where?" Snipeshooter asked.

"Where? From uh, uh.." Jack started.

"From before eidda us can rememba," Harley finished Jack's sentence. Jack looked at her and thanked her silently. She nodded.

"So, who are ya?" Mush asked.

"Name's Harley. I'd say nice ta meet ya, but, uh, I don't know who ya are," Harley replied sarcastically.

"Oh. Well, I'm Mush, and dat's Race, an’ Jake, an’ Boots, Specs, Skittery, Snipeshooter, Bumlets, Crutchy, an’ Blink, an’ Dutchy." Mush pointed to each as he named him.

"Now I can say nice ta meet ya." Harley laughed and smiled at her witty comment.

"Harley, is dat short fer anythin'?" Skittery asked.

"Harlequinn. Now, d'ya guys just stand round all day, or are ya newsies?" Harley asked with a grin. Newsies were usually much more adamant about getting to the circulation office in the morning.

"Yeah, we're newsies," Jake said, not knowing why she had even bothered to ask. The others were just as confused as he was.

Harley laughed at them. "Come on, Jack," she said and walked out of the room. Jack shared in her laughter and followed her out. The others just shrugged and left the room, too.

On the way to the circulation office, Blink shouted, "I got it!"

"Got what, Blink?" Race asked.

"Why Harley asked if we was newsies," Blink answered. Then he laughed and shook his head at his brilliance. The others just looked at Blink as if he were crazy. After all, none of them had gotten it.

At the circulation office, Harley met a few more newsies. "Harley, dis here's David an’ Les. Dey's newsies too, but Davey here, he went ta school," Jack introduced. To Jack, it seemed like David were the king of New York, but to Les, Jack held that title.

"Nice ta meet'cha, Davey, you too, Les. If ya didn't catch it, my name's Harley," she said.

"Nice to meet you too, Harley," David said politely. He was always polite to girls. Harley nodded and waited in line like the rest of the newsies.

After they'd all gotten their papers, they sat around for a few minutes to read the headlines. Les was hanging over by his idol, Jack, and reading the headlines over Jack's shoulder. Harley was leaning against the wall and reading the headlines off one of her papers. Race, Blink, Specs, and Mush were by the opposite wall talking to each other.

"You ask 'er," Specs whispered.

"I ain't doin' it, yer da one dat likes her," Race said angrily.

"Come on, Race, do it fer yer friend," Mush pleaded.

"I told'ja, I ain't doin it," Race said and crossed his arms over his chest. He obviously wasn't going to do it.

"Yer da only one dat's real good wit' goyls. Well, besides Jack," Specs tried to convince his friend.

"Well, gee, thanks. But NO!" Race said loudly.

Blink had been listening to the whole conversation and had said nothing. "Oh, shud-up. I'll ask ‘er," he finally said, frustrated. He started toward Harley.

"Thanks, Blink," Specs said gleefully. Specs smiled as Blink walked over to Harley. They all followed him.

"Hey, Harley," Blink said as he walked up to her.

Harley looked up from her paper to see whom the voice had come from. "Oh, hi, uh," she thought for a second, "Blink," she greeted, remembering his name, and pleased that she had.

"Yeah. Say, did'ja need any help ta sell papes?" Blink, sort of, subtly asked.

Harley raised an eyebrow and looked over Blink's shoulder at the three boys behind him. "Not really," she said. Harley saw Specs's face fall. He suddenly seemed to find his shoes extremely interesting. "But I could use any company ya guys could muster up," she said with a smile, seeing Specs's face light up.

"I, uh, think we could find ya some comp’ny den," Blink said tactfully.

"Race, Mush, and Specs right?" Harley said as she looked over Blink's shoulder again.

"Yeah, dat's us," Race said with a cigar in his mouth. Blink moved out of the way so they could all talk face to face.

"Well, we better be startin' ta sell papes then. Who's comin’ wit' me?" Harley said. None of the boys said anything. "Well, don't all answer at once now," Harley said with a laugh. She shook her head and grabbed her papers. She started to leave the circulation office slowly; she was in no real hurry.

"Specs, whatta ya doin'? Go wit' 'er," Blink whispered as her shoved Specs over to Harley. Specs hadn't expected it, so he went forward a few feet and then tripped and fell flat on his face. Harley spun around to see Specs lying on the ground a few feet from her.

Harley laughed and walked over to Specs. "Ya know, Specs, ya could find a less painful way ta get my attention," she said with a laugh. She offered to help him up.

Specs took her hand, and she helped him up. "Yeah, probably," Specs said as he glanced back at Blink, who was laughing hysterically.

Harley just giggled and said, "Come on, Specs; keep me company taday."

Specs smiled and said, "Okay." He was rather glad that he could sell with her that day.

Harley and Specs left the circulation in pursuit of a good headline, some good money, too. Back in the circulation office: Race, Blink, and Mush were high-five-ing each other. They'd done a good job of getting Specs to go with Harley.

"It's about lunch time. Ya wanna git some lunch, Harley?" Specs asked as he glanced at his pocket watch.

"Sure, sounds good. Where?" Harley replied.

"How’s bout we eat at Tibby's?" Specs suggested.

Harley nodded. "Shoa, okay," she said. They finished selling their papers and then went on to Tibby's.

Most of the boys were already in Tibby's when Specs and Harley got there. Specs was instantly accosted and interrogated about his morning with Harley by Blink, Race, and Mush. Several others who were curious joined in, too.

Harley walked over to where Jack and David were sitting. She stood at the end of the table and brightly greeted them. "Hey ya, Jack, Davey. Who're dey?" she said as she noticed two girls sitting with the boys.

"Oh, this is a friend of mine from school, Anna, and that's my sister, Sarah," David answered, introducing them.

"Nice ta meet'cha both. My name's Harlequinn, but I go by Harley."

"You look familiar, did you go to a school over by Central Park last year?" Anna asked.

Harley looked down at the table before she answered, as if she was thinking over what she were going to say. "No, I ain't neva been ta school," she lied coldly. Then she left the table and went to order a drink.

"I know I've seen her somewhere," Anna said trying to remember.

"Maybe you saw her selling papes earlier," David suggested with a shrug.

"Or bout a year ago maybe, selling papes," Jack said ambiguously and took a swig of his drink. The three of them looked at Jack questionably. They wanted him to elaborate on his statement, but he never did. He just continued to eat his lunch in silence.

Just then, Spot Conlon, the Brooklyn leader, walked in. Occasionally he came to Manhattan for social purposes, occasionally for business, but usually he just stayed in Brooklyn. "Hey ya, Jackey-boy," Spot greeted as he walked over to Jack's table.

At the counter across the restaurant, Harley's ears perked up at the strange new voice. It was a familiar voice. She'd heard it somewhere before, but she couldn't quite place it. She stepped away from the counter and began to turn around slowly.

"Hey ya, Spot," Jack greeted just as cheerily.

Suddenly there was a loud crash across the restaurant. Everyone turned to see where it had come from. Harley was kneeling on the ground picking up pieces of shattered glass. One of the waiters came over with a broom to sweep it up.

"I'm real sorry. I didn't mean ta do it," Harley apologized, still picking up broken pieces of glass.

"That's okay, miss, just leave it, and I'll clean it up," the waiter said.

"I'm real sorry," Harley apologized again. Then she looked up to see all the newsies staring at her. She scanned the crowd; her eyes finally fell upon Spot. Her eyes narrowed, and she stood up slowly; a grim look on her face.

"Spot, ya rememba.." Jack started.

"Harley," Spot interrupted as he looked at her, unblinking. Harley walked over to Spot and stopped about a foot from him. Specs's heart fell. He could never compete with Brooklyn, let alone Spot Conlon.

"Ya know 'er?" David asked confusedly.

"I thought ya was gone," Spot said, never taking his eyes off her.

"I was, but I'm back again. And this time, it's fer good. Ya better watch yerself now," Harley said softly, but in a threatening manner.

"It wasn't my fault..." Spot started.

Harley laughed at this. "It wasn't yer fault. It wasn't his fault!" she directed to the group. She turned back to Spot. "You don't even rememba do ya?"

Spot looked at a wall and thought of what it was that he had allegedly done to deserve this kind of treatment. Then he looked back at her and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't know what I was doin'." He put his hands on her shoulders.

Harley shrugged his hands off her shoulders and punched Spot in the stomach. Spot doubled over and looked up at her with surprise. "You stay away from me, Spot Conlon. I warned ya once. I ain't gonna do it again," Harley said angrily. Then she left the restaurant and went back to the Lodging House.

"Gee, Spot, what'd ya do?" David asked. Spot gave him and evil look. David immediately shut up and minded his own business.

All the newsies had watched what was going on between Harley and Spot in complete silence. But now, Tibby's was returning to the way it was several minutes before, with all the newsies eating and having a good time. Spot sighed and left the restaurant, forgetting why he had even come to Manhattan in the first place. Specs took advantage of it. All were involved in their own conversations, so Specs slipped out and went to the Lodging House without being noticed.

At the Lodging House, Harley was sitting in the bunkroom on her bed. She was just sitting there, emotionless; not crying, not fuming, not caring. Specs walked in looking for her.

"Ah, Harley, here ya are," Specs said as he walked over to her bunk. He sat down on the end of the bunk.

"Hey ya, Specs," she said, barely acknowledging his presence.

"Kin I ask ya a question?" Specs asked.

"Ya jist did."

"I meant a different one."

Harley smiled a little, but she kept her eyes blank. "Sure, Specs, anythin'," she answered, starring at the wall.

"What really happened between you an’ Spot?" Specs asked. Then he noticed the pain in her eyes. "You don't hafta tell me if ya don't want to," he said quietly.

"Naw, it'd be good fer me ta tawk 'bout it, I think," Harley said. Then, to herself, she thought, Yeah, most of it anyway.

"Okay," Specs said with a smile. He hid his smile quickly, he didn't want to seem too enthusiastic about her misfortunes.

"What happened? Well, ‘bout a year and a half ago, I was a newsie, like now. Jack took me ta Brooklyn ta learn how ta fight. I could already beat him up, but he wanted ta make sure I got some real teachin', ya know. Well, I stayed in Brooklyn fer about a week learnin’ ta fight. Spot and I were workin' real close throughout that time. By da end of da week, it wasn't just workin'. We had a nice relationship fer quite a while. We were really close throughout our relationship. Then one day, Spot and I were walkin' back ta Manhattan. One of da bulls came up ta us. Spot didn't even try ta protest; he just handed me over ta da guy. Like he knew dey were comin' fer me. The police arrested me and brought me back ta my folks.

"At my dad's, I was locked up in my room fer a couple a months. Then my dad let me out inta da house fer a little while every day. I never was allowed outta da house. Then last night, da servants forgot ta lock da windows..."

"Den ya ran away like ya said ta Jack dis mornin’," Specs finished, remembering the conversation earlier that day.

Harley smiled. "Yeah, I ran away. Spot did some other stuff too, but I don't really want ta talk 'bout that now," she said, looking at her feet.

"Dat's okay. We was all real surprised when ya hit him though. No goyl's ever done it before. That was real nice, most of us guys've wanted ta do it fer a long time. All da goyls always fall fer him, and it's nice ta see one dat don't," Specs said enthusiastically.

"Well, Specs. Let's jist say I did it fer you then," Harley said with a forced smile. Specs grinned. To herself, she thought, I did fall for him. I'm just never gonna do it again. "Come on, let's go wait fer da next edition."

"All right," Specs said and stood up.

They walked back down to the street. Harley was in a slightly better mood now. When they got to the square, most of the guys were standing around the statue or playing cards on the ground.

"Double down boys!" Race said loudly, throwing his arms in the air. They were playing Craps. The guys playing with Race just grumbled and put the money in. Then they continued with their game.

"Hey, Harley, ya feelin' betta?" Jack asked as he saw her and Specs walk into the square.

"Yup," Harley answered with grin.

"You shoulda seen Spot after ya left, he was real annoyed," Blink commented.

"I wouldn't go inta Brooklyn fer a while if I was you," Dutchy said.

Harley just laughed. "I don't plan to any time soon," she replied, still laughing.

Then the circulation bell began to ring, and all the newsies went to get in line for the afternoon edition. Jack was first in line, as usual, then David, Harley, Specs, Blink, Race, Mush, and so on. After they'd all gotten their papers, they read the headlines like they had that morning. No one left until everyone had his papers. It wouldn’t be fair to jump-start the competition.

"Look at dis," Race said, pointing to a small ad on the front page. The others looked to where Race was pointing. They looked in their own papers for the ad. "Lookin' fer Angela Pulitzah. If ya knows da whereabouts a her, please contact Joseph Pulitzah at da New Yawk World buildin’. $100.00 reward," Race read.

"He must be real desperate. Wonda how long she's been missin'," Blink said.

"Not too long I'd guess," Harley said, knowing full well who Pulitzer was looking for.

"Why d'ya say dat?" Specs asked curiously.

"If she were gone long, he'd offer a larger reward fer her head, I mean, uh, fer her ta be found," Harley quickly realized her error and corrected it. She hoped no one else had caught her mistake.

"He must love her a lot though," David said.

"I wouldn't bet on it, Davey. You'd loose more than a pocket load a change," Harley said.

Just then, Jack walked over to the group. "Hey, whatta ya guys tawkin' 'bout?" he asked.

"There's an ad in da pape 'bout Pulitzah’s daughter. He's offerin' a hundred dollas reward money. Think a what ya could do wit' dat much cash," Race said. Then his mind wandered about what he could do with all of that money.

Harley looked at Jack. "Well, I don't think anyone'll be findin' his daughter. She's probably a hundred miles from here by now," Jack said as he looked at Harley. Harley gave him a relieved look.

"If she's smart, probably," Specs said. Harley looked down at the ground with an almost regretful look on her face. Then she left without a word. Specs watched her go with a confused look on his face. Then he followed her.

"What's wit' her?" Race asked.

"I couldn't tell ya," Jack said with an unknowing tone as he watched Specs catch up with Harley. But he did know why she’d just left like that. He just wouldn’t say why.

"Hey, Harley! Harley, wait," Specs called. Harley stopped and turned around. "What's wrong?" he asked as he caught up to her.

Harley looked into Specs's eyes for a second. "Nothin'," she finally said. "Nothin'." She couldn't tell him, not yet anyway.

"Ya still wanna sell papes?" he asked.

Harley forced a smile. "Sure, come on," she said as she took his arm and led him down the street.

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© 1997 Gail/Birdie Kelley

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