By Birdie Kelley
Copyright © 1999
By Birdie Kelley
Copyright © 1999
7 March 1896
One evening after a long day of selling, the whole group was lounging around the bunkroom. No one was in the mood to play cards or just plain gamble, which was odd in itself, so they all just socialized while they lounged comfortably. Most of the boys sat around in a ragged circle, but Birdie lay on her belly on her bunk facing the boys.
“Aw, c’mon, Mac. We all know ya gots a goyl somewheres,” Hawk whined, tired of Mac avoiding the question.
Mac glanced across the circle at Birdie who looked very interested in his answer. He sighed. “Awright, yeah, I gots me a goyl,” he divulged. This made the boys even more interested. They waited anxiously for Mac to continue.
“What’s she look like?” the younger boy named Tiny asked, grinning from ear to ear. He always liked the girlfriends of the older boys. They were always really nice to him and usually very pretty in his opinion.
“Yeah, Mac. She’s gotta be real goigious ta be datin’ da leadah a da Queens newsies,” Rocky pointed out with a sly smirk.
Mac grinned and remembered the image of his girl. “Oh, yeah, she’s goigious. She gots dese green eyes dat’re amazin’, ‘n’ dis long hair dat always seems ta be in it’s place even aftah runnin’ ‘round a bit. She’s pretty skinny, but she looks real good dat way,” he described, leaving out a few key details so they could imagine someone who wasn’t who he was really dating.
“She sounds real goigious,” Blues noted, thinking of the image. He hadn’t dated a girl in quite some time and missed it quite a bit, so he took joy in hearing about the other girls.
“Hey, Boidie, you’se Mac’s best friend. Ya evah met ‘is goyl?” Deacon asked, glancing up at her.
Birdie nodded, closing her eyelids over her sparkling green eyes for a second. “She’s a real nice girl. Mac certainly seems ta like ‘er a lot, but I think she likes ‘im even more,” she answered, her eyes flicking over to Mac for a second.
The boys all turned back to Mac, a little hurt. “How come we’se nevah met dis goyl?” Spitz spoke up.
Mac smirked. “Cuz she’s a real high-class lady. Why would I innerduce you bummahs ta a lady like dat, huh?” he laughed. They groaned and threw pillows at him.
Birdie laughed and climbed to her feet. She crept toward the door. Hawk tackled her to the ground. “Oh, no ya don’t, Boidie,” he said as he pinned her hands.
“Hey!” Birdie yelped, wriggling beneath him.
“Ya ain’t gittin’ outta dis convasation. I’ll bet ya gots a guy off somewheres. You’se a pretty goyl. Who wouldn’t wanna date ya?” he asked, still laying on top of her, face to face with her.
“You when I’m done wit’ ya,” she threatened with a laugh. Hawk laughed nervously and climbed back to his feet, inching away from her. She stood back up and brushed herself off. “Okay, yeah, I gots me a guy, ‘n’ I’d like ta go see ‘im right now if ya don’t mind.” She smirked and tried to leave again.
“Uh, Boidie?” Mac cooed. Birdie stopped and turned back around. “Dey all hoid ‘bout mine. Why don’t cha tell ‘em ‘bout chers,” he said with a grin.
Birdie narrowed her eyes at him. “Yer a rat, ya know dat,” she replied facetiously. They all laughed. “Okay, okay. He’s a real great guy, tall, dawk, ‘n’ handsome I s’pose ya could say.” A few of the boys rolled their eyes at that. She shrugged and continued. “I like ‘im, ‘n’ that’s all that mattahs,” she finished. She chuckled and ran out the door before anyone could catch her.
“Boidie! You scoundrel!” Mac yelled after her from the doorway. The only answer was her laughter as she ran out into the snow-covered streets. A few minutes passed, and Mac seemed to be anxious about something. “Hey, fellas, I’se gonna go see if Boidie’s okay. I don’t want ‘er runnin’ ‘round da streets alone, ya know,” he said, worried about his friend.
“Mac, she kin whip you in a fight,” Hunter pointed out, laughing a little. Mac glared at him, and he instantly stopped laughing.
“I’ll see you fellas latah,” Mac said and walked out the door, grabbing his jacket on the way. He started looking around for Birdie. When he came to an old warehouse by the water, he smirked and walked inside.
The silhouette of a girl stood in the middle of the warehouse, visible only because of the moonlight streaming in through the windows. Mac walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders gently and let them slide down her arms to her waist slowly. As his hands moved, he kissed the back of her neck and shoulders tenderly. She turned around slowly and looked up into his eyes as she moved her hands up his chest to finally rest behind his neck. They kissed passionately as he pulled her closer.
“I loves ya, Boidie,” he whispered in her ear.
“I love ya, too, Mac,” she whispered back.
Mac grinned and picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder. She laughed as he carried her to their room upstairs. It wasn’t well furnished, but it had what they needed, a comfortable bed, a small washing area with everything they needed, some blankets, and a change of clothes for both of them. When they were in their room, Mac shut the door behind him and set Birdie down on the bed carefully. She laughed a bit and pulled him closer and into a deep kiss.
A few hours later, Birdie was asleep on Mac’s muscular chest. Mac just watched her sleep. He adored her and loved to watch her sleep. Before they’d gotten together, he’d stay up some nights and just watch her sleep. She seemed so peaceful that way, nothing like she was when she was awake. When she was awake, she was full of spunk and sarcasm, everything he loved about her. He’d loved her for a long time and couldn’t imagine what life had ever been like without her. He knew they’d be together forever. He just knew it.
Mac shook her awake softly. “Boidie,” he whispered. Her eyes fluttered open, and she moved up to face him. “We bettah git back ‘fore any a dem stawt wonderin’,” he said softly.
Birdie nodded and kissed him softly before sitting up. She ran her fingers through her hair and reached for her shirt. Mac helped her dress before dressing himself.
When they were both dressed, Mac picked her up again and then carried her back through the streets of Queens. She snuggled against his shoulder and fell back asleep. He smiled down at her and carried her back up to the dark bunkroom where he set her down in her own bunk carefully so not to wake her. He removed her shoes and slipped her quilt up to her shoulders. She stirred a little but didn’t wake. He smiled again and went over to his bunk, undressed and went to sleep.
In the morning, Birdie was last to wake. Tiny took it upon himself to wake her in almost the most violent way he could think of; he jumped onto her stomach. After the initial reaction, Birdie shoved him to the floor. She laughed a little and climbed out of bed. She washed and changed quickly, smiling at Mac when she passed him on the way into the washroom. He smiled back at her. No one noticed.
After leaving the lodging house, everyone went on to get their papers and then off to selling. Birdie and Mac didn’t sell together, but they often saw each other during the day. Most of the Queens newsies sold alone, except for the younger ones like Tiny who sold with an elder boy, frequently a different one every day.
Early in the afternoon, Birdie was almost done with her papers when she walked past an alley. A hand reached out and yanked her into the lobby. She started to protest but was silenced immediately with a tender kiss. She knew she wasn’t in any danger anymore.
“Mac, whatta ya doin’?” she hissed, pulling him further into the alley after pulling away from the kiss.
“I ain’t allowed ta kiss ya no more?” he asked, almost hurt.
Birdie stopped in the shadows at the end of the alley. She kissed him softly. “Ya know I didn’t mean that, Mac, but ya also know it’s dangerous ta do that,” she whispered.
He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I know, darlin’, but I cain’t help meself sometimes. Ya’s jist so goigious,” he whispered back, his face close to hers.
She sighed. “I love ya, Mac. Ya know that, but we do gotta be careful. If the guys find out…”
He nodded. “I know. I know. Ya’ll git t’rown out fer good,” he mumbled sadly.
She nodded. “I’ll see ya at the house tanight,” she said and kissed him lightly. She started to walk away, still holding his hand. She walked down the alley, letting her arm stretch out behind her to touch Mac’s hand and fingers as long as possible. She smiled longingly at him and left the alley.
Mac watched her in the same way. He loved her more than life itself. If he ever could, he’d never let go of her.
That night at the lodging house, Birdie arrived in the middle of the stream of lodgers. Half of the newsies were still out selling while the other half sat around the lobby playing cards. She walked past their housing attendant and flipped him a coin.
“Miss Boidie?” he called after catching the coin. She looked back at him, eyebrows raised. “Dis came fer a Miss Jillian Kelley,” he informed as he held up a yellow envelope. “I figured it was you.”
“Yeah,” she answered and walked back over, taking the telegram from him slowly. “Thanks, Johnny.” Birdie had never gotten a telegram before, but she had gotten many letters in the past, but they were all just addressed to Miss Kelley, not Jillian.
“Shoah, Miss Boidie,” he replied, nodding to her politely. He was the only person who ever called her “Miss Birdie.” Since she was a girl and the only one, he believed that she deserved to be treated like a lady. She was also the only one he addressed by name. The boys just got “Hey, boy!” or “You, boy!” or something to that effect.
Birdie headed for the stairs as she opened the envelope, curious as to what was in it. She walked up past the landing before reading it. After she’d read it, she stumbled back down the stairs backwards and slammed into the wood-paneled wall. She dropped to the floor in shock. The boys jumped up and rushed to her side. Mac stood at the top of the stairs, looking down to see what all the commotion was about. He couldn’t see Birdie yet. He descended the stairs slowly. The boys moved for him. When he saw her shaking, he knelt down beside her.
“Boidie, ya awright?” he asked softly. She didn’t seem to hear him. She just stared at the telegram, stunned and refusing to cry. He took the telegram out of her hand and read it slowly. “Oh, Boidie,” he said, pulling her into a hug. She still didn’t seem to be aware of the events around her. Mac just held her tightly for a few moments. When she didn’t seem to be shaking so much anymore, he picked her up gingerly and carried her up into the bunkroom, setting her down on her bunk. She just took hold of her quilt and curled up into a little ball, staring at the wall with no emotion in her face. He crept back outside, telegram in hand and shutting the door behind him.
“Mac?” Hawk asked quietly.
“What’s wrong wit’ Boidie?” Tiny wondered, not liking the way his other leader was acting.
Mac held the telegram up and began to read. “Jill. Stop. Frederick died. Stop. Please come. Stop. Lilah. Stop.” He looked back at the bewildered boys. They had no idea who either Frederick or Lilah were. “Frederick ‘n’ Lilah was ‘er family aftah ‘er folks died. Dey couldn’t woik, so she came heh’ ta support ‘em,” he explained.
Suddenly there was a crash upstairs in the bunkroom. Mac and the others hurried into the room. They found Birdie running around the room, frantically trying to pack. She had knocked over one of the lockers and didn’t appear to have noticed.
“Boidie? Boidie!” Mac said, trying to get her attention.
Birdie stopped moving and sighed, slumping down on her bunk. “I gotta go, Mac,” she stated, squaring her shoulders bravely.
Mac knelt down in front of her. “We ain’t debatin’ dat, Boidie. We know ya loved ‘im. Jist wait till mornin’ is all,” he said softly.
“Will ya stay wit’ me?” she whispered, her voice barely inaudible.
Mac brushed her hair away from her face. “Shoah,” he whispered as he saw a tear roll down her cheek. He tried to brush it away before any of the others saw it, but they did. They moved away and changed for bed quickly.
Birdie dragged herself into the washroom and washed up before changing. She dropped herself down on her bunk, and Mac wrapped his arms around her after the lights had been put out. She hugged him tightly and fell asleep in his embrace. He stroked her hair softly until she was completely asleep; then he fell asleep, too.
In the morning, Mac woke Birdie before everyone else so they could have some time alone. She looked up at him sleepily and understood instantly. They both crept out of bed and went about their business of getting dressed and then went up to the roof. Birdie was there first, watching the sunrise over the buildings. Mac walked up behind her and kissed the top of her head. She turned and looked at him, clearly needing to cry but never wanting to show it.
“Boidie,” he whispered and wrapped his arms around her waist. She held him tightly and held her tears away. He turned her chin up toward him and kissed her deeper than anything either of them had ever felt. They stayed that way until they heard Johnny waking the boys up noisily.
“I love ya, Mac,” she whispered.
“I loves ya, too, Boidie,” he whispered back. At that, he walked back down the fire escape first. Birdie followed a minute later and finished packing.
After she’d finished packing, Mac and Hunter accompanied her to the train station. She hugged Hunter and kissed his cheek before going to the train. Mac had gone over to stand next to the train and waited for Birdie to finish with Hunter. She walked over to him and set her bag down in the train. The two of them hugged tightly, each nearly crushing the other’s ribs. Neither ever wanted to leave the other’s embrace. Birdie pulled away first.
“See ya latah, Mac,” she said, not wanting to say goodbye because good-byes were for good.
“I evah gonna see ya agin, Boidie?” he asked quickly as she started up into the train.
Birdie paused and looked back over her shoulder. She just smiled at him and disappeared into the train. Mac let a few tears roll down his cheeks as he stepped away from the train.
“Last call fer Newark, New Joisey,” the conductor called loudly as he walked up the platform alongside the train. A few people hurried onto the train.
Mac stepped back to Hunter as the train surged forward. “I didn’t know ‘er folks lived in Newark,” Hunter commented as they saw Birdie take a seat by the window.
Mac shook his head. “Naw. She’s gotta walk from Newark ta Montclair. Dere ain’t a train dere right yet,” he answered, staring at her through the window.
“Queens’s gonna miss ‘er,” Hunter noted.
“Yeah,” Mac mumbled as the train pulled away from the station. They stayed at the station and watched the train disappear down the tracks. “Let’s go home,” he said when the train was gone.
Hunter nodded and walked back to the lodging house with his leader. Mac went straight into the washroom while Hunter waited for him outside in the bunkroom. While he waited, Hunter glanced over at Birdie’s bunk and noticed the quilt still laying on the bed. “Mac?” he called over his shoulder.
Mac walked out of the washroom, wiping the water from his eyes. “What, Huntah?” he asked.
“Look,” was all Hunter said, nodding toward Birdie’s bunk.
Mac looked at her bunk and saw the quilt. He smiled briefly. “She’s comin’ back,” he mumbled, knowing full well that Birdie would never leave a place for good without her mother’s quilt. “I ain’t sellin’ taday, Huntah. Go on wit’out me,” he ordered.
Hunter didn’t much like leaving his leader in the state he was in, but he didn’t want to provoke his leader into anything and, therefore, didn’t protest. He just nodded and left the lodging house quickly. He wanted to work as fast as possible so he could get back in time to help his friend.
Mac just walked over to the bunk slowly and lay down, breathing deeply. The bed still smelled like her. He let a few tears leave his eyes as he curled up and held the quilt close to his chest. He missed her already.
4 May 1897
Mac and the rest of the Queens newsies had moved on with their lives. Just after she’d left, Mac would receive a letter from Birdie every few days, one to him and one to everyone else, but the letters began to come slower and slower and then finally stopped coming entirely. Mac had saved them all in the empty crevice in his mattress. She held his heart with her eloquent words. He wrote back most times, not nearly as eloquently but still managing to express his love for her. When the letters stopped, Mac sulked for days. The boys finally got him out of it when they took him to a local bar and got him drunk beyond all explanations. That was several months previous. Now Mac had found himself a girl whom he was mostly fond of, and she, in turn, cared deeply for him.
Olivia, called Livy, was fairly short and quite stocky for a girl. She had worked in a factory for most of her life and was now built to do it for the rest of it. She had long dark brown hair that she wore in two braids, pinned up around her head, and plain brown eyes. She had a Germanic background but didn’t have the spunk or feistiness most of the Germans in the area did. She was fun most times, but she rarely made decisions for herself. She was fairly pretty and, more often than not, decided that she would do the boys’ laundry on her days off, mostly to help Johnny out since he never seemed to get it right.
One evening when Livy was over collecting the boys’ laundry, she decided that the sheets also needed to be laundered. When she started to pick up the quilt that lay on Mac’s bed, he jumped up from his poker game to stop her.
“No, Livy, don’t,” he said quickly, taking the quilt from her hands.
“Mac, it needs to be washed,” she began sternly, reaching for it again.
“No, Livy. Leave it ‘lone,” he ordered, pulling the quilt close to him and heading for the fire escape with it. He wrapped it around himself and hurried up to the roof.
Livy watched him curiously and turned to Hawk. “What’s wrong with Mac?” she asked, her brow furrowed with worry.
Hawk looked at the others who all appeared to be more interested in either their fingernails or the floorboards to answer the question. Hawk cleared his throat and began. “Well, ya see, Livy, dat quilt belonged ta ‘is best friend dat left ‘bout a year ago,” he said, trying not to say too much. Mac had been such a mess after she’d left that they didn’t want it to happen again. He’d go distant for a few minutes every few days, but he’d still be Mac a few minutes afterward, mostly anyway.
“Why would he be so distraught over this boy? You have friends who come and go all the time,” Livy pointed out.
“Well, we all think dat Mac really loved ‘er. We didn’t ‘ave no proof ‘er nuthin’, but we kinda figured since dey awways knew what da oddah was thinkin’,” he explained, smiling weakly as he remembered her.
“Maybe I should go talk to him-“
“I wouldn’t,” Hawk stated firmly, grabbing her arm as she headed for the window. She just looked back at him. “He jist needs a li’l time. Dey was best friends fer five years befoah she left. Leave ‘im be,” he said, not about to let her go talk to their leader.
Livy just nodded and went about her business. She washed the old sheets and put new ones on each bunk before leaving. Johnny hung the newly washed sheets on the roof after she left for the evening. Mac was still up there when he did so, looking out over the rooftops.
The next afternoon, the Queens newsies were all hanging around the bunkroom playing poker and whatnot. Mac was in a better mood, but he still had that nagging voice in the back of his mind that told him that he was in love with a girl who wasn’t Livy. Livy, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine about the situation and spoke to her good friend Blues over in the corner.
“Hey, fellas, how’s it rollin’,” Deacon asked as he walked through the bunkroom door, taking the cigar out from between his lips to speak.
Mac looked over his shoulder and twisted his torso a little to see who had just walked in. His back was to the door, so he had to work to see it. “Oh, heya, Deac. We’se jist fine,” he answered with a small smile.
Deacon grinned and plopped himself down on his bunk as several of the other boys greeted him with the same sort of answer. He grabbed his book from his locker and paged through it to the last place he’d read. “Dat’s real great, fellas,” he mumbled as he found his page.
Downstairs, Birdie walked into the lobby, empty of everyone except Johnny. He smiled when he noticed her. She gotten a bit taller, and her auburn hair had grown to the base of her back. She wore it down except for a little bit that had been pulled back and held in place with a ribbon so it would stay out of her face. Her clothes were virtually the same except that she now wore a leather belt instead of her old suspenders. She’d had a figure before, but it was more pronounced now. She smiled at Johnny and put a finger to her lips before he could say anything. He smiled a bit more and nodded toward the bunkroom, knowing she’d want to see the boys.
She crept up the stairs slowly and silently. She still remembered every squeaky floorboard and avoided it expertly. When she got to the bunkroom, she leaned on the door-jam and gazed around the room. She smiled at seeing all her old friends. “Hey, what’s a girl gotta do ta get a welcomin’ ‘round here?” she announced loudly.
Mac looked up from his cards, not believing his ears but not yet turning around. The others looked over at her, shocked at first and then glad to see her.
“Boidie!” Tiny screeched and flew into her arms. Mac gulped slowly.
Birdie laughed as she caught him. “Yer getting’ too big fer that, Tiny,” she laughed, hugging him in greeting. Tiny began babbling on incessantly about the events of the past year. Birdie nodded and listened, watching the twelve-year-old.
On the other side of the room, Mac rose slowly, letting his cards drop to the floor. Birdie set Tiny down when she noticed Mac’s movements. He turned around just as slowly, meeting Birdie’s sparkling green eyes. He sauntered over to her cautiously. He spit in his palm and held it out to her. Her eyes dulled considerably, but she still kept a warm smile on her face. She spit in her own palm and shook his hand.
“Nice ta see ya again, Mac,” she smiled and patted his arm with her other hand.
“You, too, Boidie,” he mumbled, staring at her. Livy raised an eyebrow at that, but Mac said nothing further.
“Who’s the girl, Blues?” Birdie asked, not breaking eye contact with Mac. When Blues didn’t answer, she turned her eyes to him, demanding a response.
Blues gulped and spoke. “Uh, Mac’s goyl Livy,” he answered nervously, wringing his hands out.
Birdie looked back at Mac, a glad smile on her face, but her eyes were cold and hurt. Only Mac could see it, and it hurt him terribly. She turned and walked over to Livy, a small smile on her face. “Birdie Kelley. So nice ta see Mac’s got ‘imself a girl,” she said as she offered a dry hand to Livy.
Livy grinned and shook Birdie’s out-stretched hand. “It’s so nice ta finally meet the famous Birdie Kelley,” she said happily.
A look of surprise registered on Birdie’s face. “Mac been tellin’ stories?” she asked curiously, not even looking to him to see if it were true.
“No, the others-“
“Boidie,” Mac interrupted, “ya heh’ fer yer ol’ place?” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. The others looked at him oddly. The two of them were acting very strangely.
Birdie turned partway around and turned her head the rest of the way to face Mac. “I got my own kids ta look aftah now, Mac,” she answered plainly.
The others weren’t nearly as surprised as Mac, who was shocked beyond words, but they still began to creep out of the room. They knew when to leave in the middle of a conversation, especially between these two. Livy, on the other hand, stayed where she was. Blues tried to get her to go along quietly, but she protested and pushed him away.
“Livy. Out,” Mac ordered in a stern voice, not taking his eyes away from Birdie’s.
Livy had a hurt expression on her face as she left the bunkroom. She didn’t know what to make of the situation. Mac had been the polite and charming gentleman she’d fallen for up until the incident the previous night. She wondered what this girl had to do with it. After she left, Blues shut the door and stood watch at the top of the stairs, making sure no one listened against the door. Since the stairs were at the end of the hall, Blues couldn’t hear them either.
“Yer own kids? Any of ‘em mine?” he asked softly, not sure what to hope for.
Birdie burst out laughing. She shook her head and just laughed, turning toward Mac completely. “I didn’t have any kids, Mac. Newsgirls. They’re my kids,” she explained after another moment of laughter.
Mac was a little relieved by her explanation. “Where ya sellin’ den?” he asked, smiling a bit and leaning on one of the bunks.
“I persuaded Lilah ta come inta the city ‘n’ fix up that old buildin’ on Union Street in Flushin’. We got a couple a girls now, Mystic, Rhythm, Faith… More, but I can’t remembah their names,” she laughed. She’d know them by sight if nothing more. She only remembered them because they were the first lodgers.
“Den ya don’t hate me?” he asked hopefully.
Birdie looked right into his eyes. “No,” she breathed.
“Den why’d ya quit writin’?” he wanted to know, stepping toward her.
“I didn’t want ya ta wait fer me, ta git on wit’ yer life. At least it’s what I thought I wanted…”
Mac turned her chin up to him and leaned down toward her. Birdie waited in anticipation before raising herself up and meeting his lips. They both pulled each other closer and into a tighter embrace. The kiss was something both of them had longed for for over a year. Birdie finally pulled away.
“No, no, no, no, no,” she mumbled, stepping away from him.
“Boidie?” Mac asked, his bottom lip quivering.
“Mac, we can’t, not now,” she managed to explain, clearly wanting it but trying to think with her head instead of anything else.
“Why?” he wanted to know, close to tears. He wanted her so much that he couldn’t even express it.
Birdie brushed some of his unruly hair behind his ears. “We jist can’t have both leadahs a Queens so involved. It ain’t good fer anybody,” she whispered.
Mac smoothed her hair and pulled her into a hug. “I loves ya too much ta do dat, Boidie,” he whispered.
“We hafta,” she whispered back, holding him tightly.
Down in the lobby, the newsies were becoming restless. There was no laughter and no shouting. There was no sound coming from the room at all.
“Dey gonna be okay, Blues?” Tiny wondered.
“Dey’ll be fine,” Blues assured the boy, not sure himself of what was going on.
Just then the door to the bunkroom opened, and two laughing leaders stumbled out. Birdie carried her folded quilt while Mac tried to keep her from falling over. They meandered over to the stairs and to the stunned newsies.
“Hey, fellas! Meet Queens’ newsgoyls newest leadah!” Mac announced with a wide grin. The newsies looked at her, still stunned and then clapped and cheered for her.
“Aw, I missed you guys!” Birdie said loudly, still laughing.
“We missed ya, too, Boidie,” Hunter said and pulled her into a tight hug.
Birdie laughed and turned back to Mac after Hunter released her. “So, ya gonna come meet my girls?” she asked, shifting the quilt in her arms.
“Race ya,” he challenged. A smile grew on her lips. When he saw that, he bolted down the stairs and out the door.
“Oh, you rat!” Birdie yelled, chasing after her.
Everyone laughed and went back to playing cards and gambling. Spirits were higher now that Birdie was back for good. As for Livy, she didn’t come around as much anymore. Mac was back to his old self now that his best friend was back but wasn’t the same person Livy knew anymore. She stopped by every once in a while to visit Blues and the others, but she tried not to be in the house when Mac was there. They just drifted apart.
Birdie and Mac did get closer now that they were together again, starting almost exactly where they’d left off when she’d left but not quite. Since Mac technically had more leadership experience, he looked out for the Birdie’s girls, making sure that they were safe and well off for the time being. He respected them and their claim to the selling spots anywhere in Queens. The newsgirls and newsboys in Queens were like a family all in itself, just sleeping in different houses. Selling spots weren’t fought over because the girls and boys respected each others’ claim on a word. The girls and boys did occasionally date each other, but Birdie and Mac never seemed to have a significant other. They seemed happy without one.
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© 1999 Birdie Kelley. This story and its charactors are all my property. Please do not copy them unless I've given you permission to do so.
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