A Simple Mistake By Sarol February 12, 2002 My name is Eliza Whipple, and could life be more boring? It was exciting in California, and when I was younger growing up in New York.  I had plenty of adventures with my boyfriend, Jack, and my best friend, Sarah. Then they got together, and left me alone with no one, or for a week anyway. I met this great guy named Matthew, and I rushed us into marriage, mostly to make Jack jealous of our happiness. We had a baby girl, and named her Suzy (could there be a more boring name?) after Matthew’s mother. I’d always dreamed of having a little girl named Zinnia, after my favorite flower, but it was too ‘unique’ for Matthew. That was when our problem started. After that, Matthew made the decisions in our relationship, and I agreed to them. If I didn’t, Matthew would get angry, and once, he even slapped me. There wasn’t any love in our relationship. Where normal people would have had love, I had fear and Matthew impatience. He got tired of everything about me- my accent because it wasn’t like his, the way every once in a while I dropped a glass, the way my hair was reddish-brown (though he referred to it as ‘bright red’), anything that wasn’t perfect. He got angry with Suzy, who would wake up crying in the middle of the night; try as I might to convince him that it was normal of babies. That’s how my life went for a year and a half, with nothing interesting whatsoever. During the day, he would work, and I would stay at home. It was better with Suzy to keep me company, but the days were still long. One day a skinny little rich girl fell into me on the street and begged me for a place to stay. I knew Matthew would be angry, but I let her stay with us for the night. While she slept on the couch, I took Matthew’s yelling, until I saw her stirring on the couch, and motioned for him to stop. Amazingly he did, with one final warning that I’d better not tell her about how he yelled at me- or else. That evening Matthew acted like the old Matthew I thought I fell in love with a year and a half earlier. It was wonderful, and he even let Maddie (that was the girl) spend the night. The next day I walked her home. She seemed to be hiding something, but I dismissed it, knowing I had my secrets, too. She told me that she had been running from Jack, which made me laugh hysterically. I ran into him on the street, where I tried to make him jealous of my ‘happiness’ with Matthew, mostly to make myself feel better about it. I think I was starting to succeed in making him jealous, when Spot Conlon interrupted, asking me where Maddie was. As Maddie was the first girl I’d made friends with since Sarah started going out with Jack, I couldn’t betray her. Instead I had the best time teasing Jack and Spot, though I really didn’t have anything against Spot. Maddie and I talked a lot after that. She wasn’t a rich girl like my first impression. Instead, she worked as a maid in a theater. She finally found her way into a flicker, and actually let me talk to some of her famous friends! The guys were so cute, and only the thought of my baby girl silenced my strong feelings of regret for marrying Matthew. That night, I went home and cried over how my life was going. Of course, I had to cry silently so not to disturb Matthew. I envied Maddie’s exciting life. She got to work in a theater, be in movies, and date whomever she wanted to. She could even cheat on people if she wanted to! Sitting on my rocking chair, Suzy in my lap, I tried to concentrate on a magazine, but thoughts of everything brought tears to my eyes, blurring the words. I sighed and put the magazine down, and closed my eyes for just a moment before I would start to prepare supper. The ‘moment’ turned into an hour or two, because the next thing I knew, Matthew was yelling at me. “What do you think you’re doing? I work hard all day, and when I try to come home to a nice meal, you’re sleeping!” “I’m sorry Matthew, but I was just so tired.” “That’s why we sleep at night!” Matthew yelled at me. “Or have you been sleeping around again?” Again? I’d always been faithful to Matthew, even though he was so mean to me. “What do you mean by that?” I started to raise my voice, and Matthew slapped me. The loud noise woke Suzy, and she started crying. “Shut that kid up!” Matthew yelled. A neighbor pounded on the wall. “Shut up or take it outside!” Suzy was crying louder, and I was trying to comfort her. It was a lost cause, though, for Matthew was yelling back at the neighbor, threatening him with what he’d do if he didn’t mind his own business. “Matthew, shh!” I tried to silence him. After all, the neighbor had a right to a little peace and quiet. Matthew, though, didn’t care about anyone but himself and turned his yelling to me. I was bawling, maybe louder than Suzy, and the neighbor started yelling at us again. He was joined by a neighbor from the floor beneath ours, who beat the ceiling with a broom and threatened to tell the landlord. “That’s it!” I yelled. “I’m leaving!” Matthew slapped me, and yelled, “You wouldn’t dare! Who would take care of you? What about your precious baby? What do you think would happen to her out on the streets?” I bit my lip. I hated to admit it, but Matthew was right. I couldn’t make Suzy live on the streets. “That’s what I thought!” Matthew grabbed my shoulders and gave me a hard thrust backward. I flew into our glass cabinet that held my mother’s precious china, shattering it all. I was still holding Suzy, and we were hit with a shower of sharp glass. I never knew what happened next, though, because I hit my head on the wall and everything went black. When I woke up again, my baby wasn’t in my arms. I called out for her, but Matthew’s hand flew to my mouth. “Shut up! We don’t want them to find out!” My eyes widened, and my heart started to pound hard. “Who?” “The bulls, you idiot!” Matthew yelled, as if I was stupid for not knowing what had gone on when I was unconscious. My head was starting to pound, and when I touched the back of it, I could feel a large bruise. “Find out what?” “That you killed the kid.” I sat up straight in bed, making my head pound harder. “WHAT?” Matthew slapped me again. “I said shut up!” I couldn’t feel the pain from that slap. I was too numb. My baby, the only reason I’d stayed with Matthew so long, was dead. And it was Matthew who killed her. Suddenly, the numbness was replaced with white-hot anger. I flew from my bed and picked up the large vase in the corner. I’d never been able to lift it before, but I guess this hatred for Matthew that I’d been holding in for so long gave me strength. I brought it down hard on his head. He passed out, and I ran from the room, pausing only once in the living room. The glass was still shattered on the spot Matthew pushed me, and there was blood spattered on the wall and beige carpet. My blood. My daughter’s blood. I ran from my apartment to Medda’s, the place Maddie worked and lived, hoping she’d let me stay with her until I could find a place of my own. When I got to the Brooklyn Bridge, I grasped the railing, my knuckles white, and looked down. I knew the swirling waters would instantly consume me, giving me an instant, painless escape from missing Suzy. Only the thought of revenge kept me from hurling myself into the cold, gray waters. Instead I continued running, and I didn’t stop until I reached Medda’s doors. I burst in, crying loudly. Maddie was singing onstage. She faltered when she saw me, but she had to finish her song. When she was done, instead of disappearing backstage like usual, she ran to me. “Dear God, Eliza, what happened?” I shook my head. How could I tell Maddie what Matthew had done? “I need a place to stay.” “You can stay here, but Eliza, tell me what happened!” Maddie led me upstairs, where we sat facing each other on her bed. Looking at Maddie’s concerned face, I knew I had to tell her some of my story, if not all. “Suzy died!” I wailed, burying my face in her shoulder. Maddie cried with me for a long time. She asked me what had happened, but I just shook my head. I was too embarrassed to tell her that I was unable to protect my baby, that I had the chance to take her away from Matthew’s anger, that it was ultimately my fault. I couldn’t get to sleep that night, though Maddie let me use her bed. While she slept on the floor, I sat up by the window, staring out at the peaceful city. I must have eventually fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew Maddie was no longer in the room. I peeked out the window, and sure enough the sun was starting to creep above the horizon. I normally would have gotten up at that time, but that day I just didn’t see the point. I had no home, no job, and the thing that hurt the most: no Suzy. I lay on my back, blinking up at the ceiling all morning and into the afternoon. I wasn’t crying or really thinking about anything. I could feel my heart thudding slowly deep inside me, and I could see my chest rise and fall. For that day, I simply existed, for to live you need the will to. Maddie knocked on my door sometime between late afternoon and early evening. She sat in a chair next to me, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk to her then. She understood and was silent with me, which meant more than anything she could have said. Finally she broke the silence. “Are you hungry?” I just shook my head, and the silence resumed for a few more moments until I couldn’t hold in my thoughts any longer. “On the way here, I stopped on the Brooklyn Bridge,” I told her, and I tried to smile. Maddie’s face remained expressionless. “I- I was going to throw myself off.” “Eliza, no!” Maddie hugged me, but I shook her off. “My baby is dead, Maddie. She needs me.” Maddie shook her head. “She has God to take care of her now.” A tear slid down my cheek, and I didn’t say anything else. I knew Maddie meant well, but she wasn’t making me feel any better. Finally I started to talk again. I talked for a long time, and Maddie listened. I didn’t tell her about the fight; instead, I just told her that I could never go back to Matthew. I knew Maddie could tell I was hiding something, but probably remembering the lies she’d told Spot, she let it go. Later that evening, Maddie offered me food again, but I refused it. I wasn’t sure why, but the things that normal people considered necessary- food, sleep, even breathing- just seemed irrelevant to me at a time like this. For the next two days, I lay there. I hadn’t eaten since the morning before that fatal fight, but my hunger had long since passed. Finally, I ventured out of Maddie’s room. My legs were sore and weak, making it difficult to walk down the steep stairs. Medda saw me first, and overwhelmed me with comforting words that didn’t really sink in. She offered me breakfast, but I still wouldn’t eat. That afternoon, Maddie dragged me to Tibby’s with her. I was greeted at the door by Racetrack, who slapped me on the back, exclaiming, “Eliza, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen you around here!” Maddie sent him a glare that shut him up, along with the rest of the newsies. I’d totally killed the mood. I ran to the bathroom, where I locked the door and cried. When I came out, I suppose Maddie had told them, for they were all looking at me differently. I sat down by myself in a booth in the corner. Kid Blink, who had always been one of the nicest newsies, came and put his arm around me. “Hey, you okay?” “Do I look okay?” I exploded, pushing his arm off me. Kid Blink ignored that comment. “Do you want me to get you anything?” Once again, I knew he was trying to be nice, but I yelled, “Shut up! My baby just died! Now’s not the best time to hit on me!” Looking startled and more than a little hurt, Kid Blink got up and started to walk away, saying that he’d listen if I ever needed to talk about it. I looked out the window and shook my head, unable to meet his eyes after how I’d yelled at him. Next Jack came over. He set his papers on the table and sat n front of me. He was holding out a zinnia, but that wasn’t what caught my eye. On the front page of one of his papers was the headline: MAN AND BABY BRUTALLY MURDERED I read on: A man and 7-month baby were found murdered in their Brooklyn apartment yesterday. The suspect is said to be the insane wife and mother of the baby. The father, Matthew Colter, was said to have been killed Monday afternoon as a result of massive head injuries, and the baby killed Sunday evening as a result of abuse. The suspect, whose name has not yet been released, is said to have left the Brooklyn area after her husband’s death. Please contact your police station with any information. My jaw dropped open. I looked up and saw Maddie sitting next to Jack. “What’s wrong?” she asked, looking worried. She’d been treating me differently ever since I’d told her what I almost did on the Brooklyn Bridge. “Read this!” I thrust the paper at Maddie and Jack. “Oh, yeah,” said Jack, “That story’s been selling like crazy. I don’t even have to improve the headline.” “You can’t sell it anymore!” I yelled, standing up. Jack and everyone else was staring at me, not that I cared. “Why not?” he asked. I sat back down and lowered my voice. “Because it’s me!” Maddie looked at me as if I’d gone crazy, which perhaps I had. “What do you mean it’s you? Your last name is Whipple, not Colter. And Eliza, you didn’t kill your husband.” Her voice was unsteady when she said that last line, as if she was trying to convince herself as well as me. “Whipple is… my maiden name,” I said slowly. Maddie grasped my shoulders. “But Eliza. You didn’t kill your baby and husband.” I could see tears welling up in her eyes. “Didn’t I?” I hadn’t thought that I’d killed Matthew, but I remembered how furious I’d been with him. Surely my anger had given me to knock the life right out of him. And when the police came, they would have seen Suzy’s blood spattered on my clothes. Did I kill them? “I think I did.” “What do you mean, you think?” Jack asked, shaking his head. If I knew Maddie well enough, and I think I did, I could tell she was praying that she’d wake up from this nightmare any second. “I mean I killed them.” I started to tell my story, the whole story, starting with Matthew abusing me, to Maddie and Jack, but soon all the newsies were sitting around, too. I’d known these guys since I was thirteen, and I’d told them everything. They were more than brothers, and they’d never let me down. They didn’t let me down that time, either. “It’s going to be okay, Eliza,” said Mush when I was done. “How can it be?” I squeaked. “I’m the suspect for two murders, and I’m not even sure I’m innocent!” Another tear rolled down my cheek. “We’re all with you, Eliza,” said Kid Blink. “We ain’t gonna let you go to jail.” They all nodded their agreement, and I knew they’d help me the best they could. My only question was: Was their best good enough? And one thing haunted me: I might not just go to jail. I’d read stories in Jack’s papers about what they did to people who did things like me. Some of them were put to death. Determined not to be put in jail, I set aside my tears for a few weeks and focused my energy to hiding. Medda ‘hired’ me as a maid, and I worked with Maddie all day for my food and board. Every day at lunch, we’d go to Tibby’s and discuss ways to prove I was innocent with the newsies, in case the police ever found me. The papers stopped printing stories about me after a few days, which was lucky, because try as we might, we found no evidence, in my apartment, Matthew’s work place, anywhere, that could possibly prove me innocent. So we stopped trying. I thought I was innocent, and so did the newsies, and that was enough for us. All this had brought Jack and I closer together, despite our history. One day, we were together in my apartment, searching for evidence that someone else could have killed Matthew. Discouraged, I gave up and flopped into the couch, my couch, which was still sitting in the same spot. Jack had talked to the landlord, who said he was trying to rent out my apartment again, but no one wanted to live where someone had been murdered. Jack told him that he was a special investigator (which he kind of was) and asked for permission to investigate. It was granted, so there we were, not that it was doing much good. “Jack, what if I am guilty?” I asked. He stopped looking around and sat by me, looking deep into my eyes. “You’re not.” I tried to smile at him. “Thanks, Jack, but I can’t help thinking that this is all my fault. If I’d have just been smart enough to leave when I had the chance!” “No,” Jack interrupted firmly. “Matthew wouldn’t have let you leave. Don’t you understand? This was all Matthew’s fault. He pushed you when you were holding the baby. He did something stupid to get himself killed, probably by one of the neighbors who was sick of the noise.” “I hope you’re right,” I said, but try as I might, I was unable to banish all my doubts. “Don’t worry. Nothing bad will happen.” Jack put his arm around me, and I leaned against him. “It already has,” I whispered. I looked up at Jack, and a tear rolled down my cheek. Jack hugged me, to comfort me. I hugged him back, and the next thing I knew we were kissing. The kiss was passionate and tender, and for just a few minutes I was able to set aside the pain of the events of the past few weeks. Inevitably, those few minutes ended, and I pulled away. “I think we should stop, now,” I whispered. Jack nodded. “Yeah, that’s probably best.” We left my old apartment then, back toward Tibby’s. We didn’t talk about that kiss, but things weren’t quite the same as before. For the first time since I’d been Jack’s girlfriend, over a year and a half ago, we were holding hands. When we got to Tibby’s, right before we walked in, I pulled Jack’s head down and gave him another kiss. The other newsies must have noticed, but they didn’t say anything when I got inside. Instead, Racetrack nervously approached me. “Eliza, I think you’re gonna want to sit down for this.” If I could have raised just one eyebrow, I would have. I couldn’t, though, so instead, I just asked, “Why?” Racetrack took a deep breath and handed me one of his papers. “Read this.” The headline said: COLTER MURDER SUSPECT STILL NOT FOUND This caught my attention, and I began to skim the rest: Police officials have still not found any information on the whereabouts of the suspect of the Colter murders. Eliza Whipple, the mother of the baby and wife of the man she was said to have murdered, is assumed to have left the Brooklyn area. Sources say that she could be posing as a theater maid in Manhattan. Officials say that she could be insane and dangerous, so be sure to lock your doors at night. With any information, please contact your local police station. I wished I had listened to Racetrack when he told me to sit. Instead, I leaned against Jack, who had been reading it over my shoulder. I looked up at Maddie, who was standing by me, tears in her eyes. “What am I going to do?” I asked no one in particular, in a small, barely audible voice. Not one of the newsies answered. They all looked at me sadly, not knowing what to say. I looked at each of them in turn, and a few tried to smile weakly. Finally Jack answered. “You’re going to stay with us. In the Lodging House. So they don’t try to find you at Medda’s.” I nodded slowly. Sure, I’d known these guys since I was just thirteen, but me, the only girl, living with them? For probably weeks? Could I handle it? I didn’t have a choice. “Okay,” I said. “But do you have room for me?” “Sure we do,” said Racetrack. I couldn’t tell you how relieved I was to belong somewhere. The Lodging House would have been great, had I not been so afraid, of life in prison, of…death, though I wouldn’t admit out loud that it was possible. The best part was being able to live with Jack. We basically picked up or relationship where it left off so long ago, and it was wonderful. I think I was in love with him, and it felt so strange. I had gotten so used to fearing and hating Mathew, I’d forgotten how it felt to be in love. I couldn’t explain it, but every time I was with Jack, I was filled with a warm, caring, selfless feeling, and when he was away it was replaced with a depressing, dark feeling, lightened only by the thought of seeing him again. I stayed in the Lodging House a lot, so no one would see and recognize me. It helped that I was in Manhattan, away from the people I knew in Brooklyn, but Jack didn’t want to take a chance that someone who might betray me would be in Manhattan. I think Jack loved me too, though he wouldn’t admit it. I didn’t admit my love for him, either, but we both knew it was there. When we kissed, there was something between us that there never was when we were going out so long ago. I got closer to the other newsies, too. I’d been worried that they’d tease me a lot, since I was the only girl living there. While they did tease me, it wasn’t mean or malicious, it was fun and friendly, and let me know just how much they loved me, in spite of everything. My best newsie friend was Racetrack. I laughed the most around him. He had this quality that made me forget my troubles for a while and have a good time. So between Race, Jack, and Maddie, who continually visited me, my stay at the Lodging House really wasn’t bad. It was actually the best time I’d had since I said ‘I do’ a year and a half earlier. The only thing that hindered my good times was that the newspaper articles kept coming. There were more deaths around my apartment in Brooklyn, and the police were blaming them on me. My name became common on the streets. People would whisper about ‘Insane Eliza’ who snuck into houses and murdered entire families as they slept. Soon the police were offering a reward for me. I knew I could trust the newsies not to give me away, but still I hardly got any sleep, which wasn’t surprising, since nearly every person in New York wanted me dead. One day my nightmares came true. I was alone in the Lodging House, except for Maddie. All the newsies were off selling their papers, and I was stuck behind for another boring afternoon. Sure, Maddie made it better, but I really was starting to go crazy. I needed to be outside, in the sunshine. Anyway, I was on the second floor telling Maddie about how much I loved Jack; when we heard the door downstairs fly open. Thinking it was one of the newsies coming to visit me, Maddie and I ran downstairs. It wasn’t Jack. It wasn’t Racetrack, either. It wasn’t Kloppman, or any of the newsies. It was two policemen, in neatly pressed uniforms with shiny badges. “Which one of you is Eliza Whipple?” one of them asked, shifting their glare from me to Maddie and back to me again. I gulped, but neither of us said anything. “It doesn’t matter, you know,” the other policeman said. “The other one is going to get punished for hiding you.” Maddie, brave, wonderful Maddie, was crying. “I’m Eliza,” I said, my voice trembling. One of the policemen laughed. He took out his handcuffs, and hooked them on my wrists behind my back. They started to drag me away, and I started to cry hysterically. “Tell Jack I love him!” I yelled to Maddie, who shook her head. “Tell him yourself! Everything will be okay!” It turned out Maddie wouldn’t have been able to tell Jack anything anyway, because the other policeman handcuffed her as well. Together we were brought to jail, not to the refuge, but the actual, grown-up jail, for grown-up people who committed grown-up crimes and deserve grown-up punishments, where we were locked up. Jack, Spot, and Racetrack visited us that night. Maddie and Spot talked for a long time, I don’t know about what, in their own corner. When I glanced over, they were kissing. Jack, Racetrack, and I, had a more intelligent conversation. First, Jack told me that Sarah, my best friend growing up, had turned me in. She said it was for college money, but maybe it was for revenge, for going out with Jack. Second, we talked about how I could be proven innocent. Racetrack and Jack had all these optimistic ideas, but I remained silent. I’d basically given up all hope of ever seeing daylight again. Either I’d be put to death, or given life in prison. Either way, the rest of my life wouldn’t be too happy. My trial was set to start in three weeks. Racetrack and Jack took turns coming to visit me to talk about it. I had a lawyer, but I had a feeling he thought I was guilty anyway. He visited me every once in a while to tell me about his progress, but I didn’t pay much attention. Maddie was let free the day after she was locked up. I think she was just put in there to scare her. She still visited me, though. When she visited, we didn’t talk about the trial. We talked about how great life would be when I got out of jail (though she was the only one with of that happening), and how her movie and stage career was going. When Jack came to visit me, we talked about how we could prove me innocent. He still had hope of that happening. Every day, instead of selling papers, he went to investigate my old apartment and Matthew’s work place. When Racetrack came to visit me, we joked around. We didn’t talk about the future, the past, or my trial. Instead, we made fun of Spot and Maddie for being so much in love, we made fun of other people in jail, and Racetrack told me jokes. He never mentioned Jack and me going out. His visits were the ones I liked most of all. One day, I was laughing at one of his jokes, when suddenly we kissed. I don’t know who started it. Maybe we both did, but we were both laughing hard, and the next thing I knew, I was in his arms and we were kissing. Jack walked in right in the middle of that kiss. He was carrying a bouquet of flowers, which he dropped on the floor. Without a word, he turned around and left. I saw him, though, and pushed Racetrack away, tears in my eyes. “Why did we do that?” I asked, picking up the flowers. They were zinnias. A little card was attached that said, ‘I love you.’ That was the first time Jack had ever said that he loved me, and I ruined it. I started crying. I couldn’t even look at Racetrack. “I’m sorry,” he said, but I couldn’t stop crying long enough to say that it wasn’t his fault. After that, Jack stopped visiting me, and it hurt a lot. I’m not sure if that meant that he stopped loving me or if he stopped searching for evidence. Whichever, I knew I deserved it. If only I could tell him Racetrack meant nothing, that it was just a kiss! I’m sure Maddie knew about what I did to Jack, but she didn’t say anything, I guess because of what she told me she did to Jack and Spot. I listened sadly to her stories about Spot: How he beat up a guy who said something bad about her, how he brought her flowers at her last performance, how he was going to come with her to the premier of her movie. It hurt because Jack and I fell in love and I ruined it before we had a chance to make all those little memories. Racetrack kept coming to visit me, but his visits weren’t as fun as before. Instead of joking around, we discussed evidence, much like the talks with my lawyer or with Jack. He never mentioned the kiss, though I could feel something different between us. Maddie said that she thought he liked me, but it was Racetrack. I couldn’t picture the two of us together. The day of my trial came sooner than I would have liked. Maddie brought me a nice dress to wear, and she wove my shiny red-brown hair into a thick braided knot. All the newsies came to the trial, and so did a few of Matthew’s relatives and some people I didn’t recognize. Amazingly, Sarah was there, though I didn’t know how she had the guts to be after betraying me. On the first day of my trial, my lawyer was able to prove pretty much right away that I had nothing to do with the other murders I was accused of. Soon it came down to one thing: Did I kill Suzy and Matthew? The courtroom was packed with newspaper reporters. Everyone was curious about this trial. As person after person-- all my neighbors, in-laws, friends-- testified against me, Sarah watched smugly from the audience. I soon found myself wondering what had happened between us. We had always been such good friends, and then she did so much to hurt me. Halfway through the day, Jack came and sat by her, putting his arm around her shoulder. I glared back at her, and scooted closer to Racetrack, who was sitting next to me. When I thought my self-esteem had reached an all-time low, the persecutor called me up to the stand. My heart pumping so hard that it rang in my ears, I slowly approached the stand. My right hand trembling as I raised it, I took the oath. When I was done, the persecutor smiled cruelly at me. “Would you care to tell me what happened the night of your baby’s murder?” I tried to glare back at him. “Sure. I was sleeping in my rocker, with Suzy in my lap. When Matthew came home from work, he slapped me and yelled at me until Suzy woke up and started crying. I tried to comfort her, and Matthew kept yelling louder and louder. The neighbors yelled back at us, and I threatened to leave. Matthew pushed me into my mother’s glass cabinet, and it shattered, knocking me out and killing Suzy, apparently.” I was about to continue my story, when Matthew’s mother stood up. “Objection!” she yelled. “My Matthew did nothing of the sort!” People began to whisper to each other, and the judge banged his gavel on the podium, yelling, “Order!” When everyone finally calmed down, I continued. “The next day, I woke up. I was…very angry. So, I, through a vase at Matthew and left.” The persecutor smiled and stroked his mustache. “This vase, how big was it?” I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. “It was…large.” I finally managed. “Care to give us an idea of how large?” There was no way I was getting around this. “It was, maybe this tall.” I sheepishly raised my hand to show him, leaving off a few inches. It was still very large, and Matthew’s mother gasped. “And you brought that down on his head?” asked the persecutor, his smile broadening. I nodded, my voice not working. “And yet you claim to have not killed Mr. Colter?” My mouth was so dry it could barely form the word, “Yes.” I surveyed the people in the crowded courtroom. Maddie was crying, silent tears slowly streaming down her face. Spot was sitting next to her, his arm around her and his face expressionless. Racetrack looked like he was going to be sick. The other newsies looked like they knew what was going to happen next, and it wasn’t good. The journalists smiled with anticipation as they rearranged the words of my story in their heads. Matthew’s family looked happy, and so did Sarah. I would give anything to jump out of my seat and ring her little neck. Especially since she was kissing Jack’s cheek. In the middle of my trial! “Miss Whipple?” The persecutor’s voice brought me back to reality. “Repeat the question?” My voice was small and breakable, like the cabinet of china Matthew had thrown me into. “Is it true that you had an affair with Jack Kelly?” “He was my boyfriend before my marriage,” I said, my voice trembling. Seeing Sarah by Jack made me add, “And after.” “A simple, ‘yes’ would be fine,” said the persecutor. I started to say that my answer wasn’t ‘yes’ and that we didn’t have an affair, but the persecutor interrupted me. “So do you think it’s possible that you planned the murder to get Matthew out of the way, so you could continue this little romance?” “No!” I said, angrily. That sounded like something Matthew would have accused me of. “It’s not possible?” asked the persecutor. “Answer carefully, you’re under oath. You never thought about hurting Matthew?” “I suppose, when he was a” I tried to finish my sentence with ‘abusing me,’ but the persecutor cut me off. “Thank you. So this might qualify as… premeditated murder?” I opened my mouth, but still nothing came out. “I rest my case,” said the persecutor, grinning cruelly at me. “You may take a seat.” After that, nothing my lawyer said seemed significant. One journalist wrote that, “every hour I spend in the courtroom is not only a waste of money; it makes me look more guilty.” Apparently the jury had the same idea. Because the next day, just one week after my trial began, it ended. I was to be executed in one month. The prison cell seemed more gray and gloomy now that I knew I’d never see the outside of it again. Maddie brought me flowers to cheer me up, but they didn’t. How could I be cheered up when everything was so wrong? My husband, despite the fact that I didn’t love him, was dead, and so was my baby. I lost my boyfriend, who I truly loved. And, to top it off, I had to wait an entire month in a cold, drafty room until the guard finally came with his keys to tell me my time had come. Racetrack visited me, too. He still made jokes, and I loved him for it, but I couldn’t bring myself to even smile at them. Everything would have been better, if only a little bit, if I’d known Jack still loved me. But he didn’t. It took a long time, yet it was sooner than I’d have liked when my last night came. Not planning on getting any sleep, I sat by the window, gazing at the stars. Were they the same stars I’d gazed at so long ago the night Suzy died? They looked different from in this cold room. Smelling Maddie’s latest bouquet of flowers, I hummed a song she’d taught me, one that she wrote for Spot. I, of course, imagined Jack instead of Spot, though. I was getting to my favorite part, when someone in the cell in front of me threw a bottle. “Shut up!” he yelled. I did, and everything was silent. Slowly, the prison began to fill up with the sound of snores, like it did every night. At this time, I normally would have fallen asleep myself, but that night I dreamed of what my life could have been like. I could have married Jack, and we could have had a baby girl named Zinnia. Or who knew, maybe something else. Maybe Jack would have gotten a good job and made us money, or maybe we would have been poor. Whatever would have happened, we would have been so happy. Maddie could have been my best friend forever. All of us could have moved back to California. I sighed when I heard the guard leave. His shift was over, and the day guard would soon come. That meant that it was nearly five a.m. I was to be executed at seven. My heart started to pound. I wasn’t really such a bad person, was I? All this was because of Matthew. When I’d gotten angry with him, I’d made the simple mistake of hurting him. Now this ‘simple mistake’ would cost me the one thing I had left: my life. I started to fall back into my daydream when I heard a rap at the window. I slowly crept over. It was Jack. “Eliza!” he whispered, taking my hand. “You came!” I whispered back, and I suppose I’d have kissed him had the bars not been in the way. He’d had plenty of practice breaking people, including himself, out of jail. Now he was coming to rescue me. “Of course. Eliza, this month’s given me time to realize what life would be like without you.” I remembered what Maddie had told me about her heart skipping a beat. I’d never had that feeling before, but I definitely did then. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling; instead, I was filled up with a warm, loving feeling. I mentally swore up a storm at those damn bars that were stopping me from kissing Jack. “So how was life?” I asked. “Without me?” “It was like…” Jack paused to think. “It was like selling papes without a good headline. You still have to sell them, but it ain’t fun, and it’s discouraging. Then you try to make it better, but deep down you still know it’s a lie.” I was deeply touched by Jack’s words, and I slipped my hand through the bar and pressed it to his lips. Jack kissed my fingertips, and I stroked his cheek. Far away, I heard a clock chime five times. “Jack, get me out of here!” I whispered. I was starting to get scared, more scared than I’d ever been. Jack pulled out a crowbar and carefully, soundlessly, removed the bars one by one. He was almost done, when I heard the door creak open. The new guard was coming. “Jack, hurry!” I hissed. The last bar was stuck. The footsteps were getting closer. “Screw it,” Jack whispered, pulling me out. It was a tight fit, but he managed to squeeze me out the window, despite the last bar. I guess these windows were designed for big men, not little ‘innocent’ girls. Women. Looking down, I realized how high up my room really was and squeezed Jack tighter. I looked up and saw Spot, Racetrack, and Kid Blink pulling us to the roof. There were a few other newsies there, too. We were almost up, when I heard the guard shout, “Hey!” He jangled his key in the lock and ran to the window. Reaching up, he grabbed my foot and started to pull. I shrieked, but Jack whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry!” I soon found out why. The door slammed shut, locking the guard in my cell. “Way to go, Mush,” Jack mumbled, and I smiled. Breaking me out of jail really was a group effort, of all these people who still cared about me. When we got to the roof, I hugged everyone, sobbing my thanks. “There’s no time!” Spot whispered, and we all began to run down the fire escape. We were joined at the front door by Mush. “Hurry!” he whispered. “Someone called the bulls!” Jack swore, but he was smiling. They were all having a great time. This was their game; breaking the rules was what they did. I thanked God that they were so good at it. A few policemen rode up in a carriage. Swearing again, Jack grabbed my wrist and pulled me down a narrow alley. The other newsies split up so not to attract attention. We met again outside a deserted building to discuss what they’d do next. I was the most wanted girl in New York, so I couldn’t rightly go back to the Lodging House with the newsies, though that was what I desperately wanted to do. I also couldn’t go to Medda’s, because the police would know to look for me there. I wasn’t stupid enough to consider returning to my apartment. The newsies finally decided that I’d stay at Brooklyn for the next few days. “If you’re brave enough,” Spot added tauntingly. Like I’d be scared of Brooklyn after all that. I laughed, and all the newsies joined in, including Spot after he got over his pride. Jack walked with Spot and me to Brooklyn, holding my hand. When we had fallen a few paces behind Spot, I asked him a question I didn’t really want to ask, but I knew I had to. “Why did you forgive me?” Jack shrugged. “You screwed up. Everyone makes mistakes. Just as long as it doesn’t happen again.” I tried to raise one eyebrow (it didn’t work). “Really?” Jack smiled. “No. Racetrack told me what happened.” I smiled, too. “I’m glad. I really do promise never to do that again.” “Good,” Jack said. “Because I kind of like Racetrack, and if you two ever do that again, I’ll have to kill him.” At the mention of death, my smile faded. “Jack, if you hadn’t come, I would have been…” I trailed off, and my hand flew to my throat. It was after seven. If it weren’t for Jack, I wouldn’t have been able to see the gorgeous sunrise or breath the fresh morning air that was filling my lungs. “Don’t talk about it,” Jack said. “You’re here. And you’re innocent. And as soon as we can, we’re going to prove it to all them lawyers, so you don’t have to run.” “Thank you,” I looked up at Jack and managed to keep the tears that were stinging my eyes from welling up. Suddenly a thought occurred to me. “Jack, what was going on with Sarah?” Jack turned pink. “Like I said, she turned you in for college money.” Just thinking about that made me angry, but I shook my head. “Not that, in the courtroom. The way you two were…kissing.” “I don’t get Sarah,” Jack began. “It’s like she doesn’t want me but doesn’t want you to have me, you know? When we were going out, she got me to dump you. Then a few weeks later, she dumped me. Now when I started to go out with you again, she tried to break us apart.” I snorted. “Some friend.” Jack shrugged. “I guess you’re lucky to have Maddie.” I nodded. Without people like Maddie and the newsies, where would I be? When Jack and I got to the Lodging House, I stopped and kissed him. It was our first kiss since I’d screwed up our relationship. I might add that it was the best kiss ever. When we were done kissing, we just stood there, holding onto each other and looking into each other’s eyes. “I love you,” I whispered for the first time. “You better after all I’ve done for you,” Jack whispered back, and I fake-slapped him and pretended to be mad. We kissed again, and when the kiss ended, Jack whispered to me that he loved me, too. Just then, the doors of the Lodging House broke open and the newsies came out to sell their papers. A few of them made a few jokes at Jack, but Jack barely noticed, because we were kissing again. The Brooklyn newsies weren’t anything like the ones I’d grown to love from Manhattan, but they still graciously accepted me in their Lodging House. I was, again, the only girl, but Spot made sure none of them gave me too hard of a time. Maddie came to visit Spot that day, and when she saw me alive, she broke down and cried. “I thought you were dead!” she sobbed, and I sobbed with her. When we were done crying, we talked for a long time. I told her how Jack forgave me and how the newsies broke me out of jail. When I was done, we were silent for a moment before Maddie said, “You’re lucky, Eliza.” I, Eliza Whipple, was lucky? After being abused by my husband, my baby’s death, my boyfriend dumping me and being sentenced to death I was considered lucky? I thought back about my life. I’d made friends with the newsies: the greatest guys in the world. The man of my dreams still loved me despite what I’d done. Matthew wasn’t there to abuse me anymore. I wasn’t in jail, and I wasn’t dead. I had a great best friend and plenty of people looking out for me. Was I lucky? You bet I was. The End (Once again, you can expect more stories about Maddie and Eliza)