Putting a comforting arm around his youngest sister, Jacob assured, "It's gonna turn out a'right, Rese, don' worry." Jacob, commonly known as Toss-Penny, looked to his father for support. Instead, his father turned his head away, ashamed. "They're jist gonna take Pop 'way for a bit," Jacob explained to Theresa, "He'll come back. Once we get our money back, we can go back home."
"It's no use lying to her, Jacob," the oldest child, Victoria, sighed. "Everything's ruined. They took my sewing machine, so now I can't make those dresses to sell. Just face it, we're never getting out of this wretched debt home."
"I ain't lyin', Tori, I'se jist tryin' ta help 'er t'ink on da positive side." Jacob hugged Theresa protectively, "She's too young ta understan' dat we could be a lot woise off. You know dat, Tori--you've seen dose kids on da streets. At least we's got a place ta stay. An' we got each uddeh."
The second-youngest Parker child, Helen, agreed, "Yeah! Toss-Penny'd neveh let us live on da streets."
Jacob grinned at his younger sister. Helen always looked up to herbrother; he always seemed to know what to do. Victoria, being the eldest, felt the obligation of taking care of her siblings, even though they had both parents to tend for them. The youngest child, Theresa, had not yet learned how to mask her emotions like a proper lady should. She let out another deafening sob.
"So, what are we gonna do?" Helen asked the question that had been in all of their minds since the family came home the week before to find their home wrecked. The intruder took everything that was of worth and left the apartment in a state of disorder. Mr. Parker's desk was overturned, his papers scattered everywhere. Mr. and Mrs. Parker and the two oldest children knew that the family was just barely able to pay off all of their debts before the robbery. Now, with everything gone, they were in a horrible position. Within a week, the family was deported into a local debtor's home--little better than a prison. The four women of the family were not allowed to leave the grounds; they worked all day in the factory joined to the home. Of the two men, only Jacob was allowed to work outside of the home. His father was confined to another factory, without pay. The Parkers' only hope for getting the money to save them was Jacob. Jacob couldn't understand the logic in a debt home. It didn't make sense that the family was held there until they paid off the debt, yet they weren't even allowed to work for money while they were in the prison. It seemed that 1903 wasn't the great year it was cracked up to be.
"Keep your chin up, kid," Jacob hid his sorrow with a big grin at Helen. "I'll visit ya wheneveh I can, 'kay?"
Helen held back her tears, nodding at her brother. Smiling, she pulled a penny out of her pocket. "Da guards missed it. Make sure ya hide it. It's for ya ta play toss-penny with."
Jacob accepted the coin with an awkward silence. In a moment, the two siblings embraced each other tightly. "Tell me what it's like on da outside when ya come back, Toss-Penny."
"'Course. I betteh beat it, now, kid. Tell Tori dat I'll be back ta make sure she ain't given y'all a bad time."
Giggling, Helen nodded.
"An' you take care a Rese fer me. Don' let Tori's bad mood get to 'er. Most of all, make sure Ma and Pop don't give up hope."
"Right. I'll miss ya, ya know. Even if ya do visit all da time."
"I know. I'll miss ya, too, kid. Say 'bye ta de uddehs fer me." Turning and walking to the iron gate, Jacob called back to Helen, "I'll be back soon!"
Three days outside of the prison, and Jacob still hadn't found a job. He had sold newspapers for extra income before the robbery, but without the money to buy the papers, Jacob had to cross that option off the list. The next choice--working in a store.
Walking down a street in Morningside Heights, Jacob noticed a pleasant looking, family-owned pharmaceutical shop called Spreckler's. It seemed nice enough, and he wasn't in the position to be picky. Still, he had no recommendations and absolutely no experience. He could be a stock boy; that didn't need experience. Heading towards the front door of the store, Jacob sucked up his courage. As soon as Jacob entered Spreckler's, he turned around and walked back out. No, he definitely was not going to work in a pharmacy. He'd have to find another job, because being a stock boy was not going to cut it. Who was he kidding, he would never last in a job like that. No excitement, no wandering the streets of New York, no thrill--at least not like when he was hawking the papes. Jacob scolded himself for being so selfish when his family needed him but he knew that he would get himself fired before he would get his first pay. No, there had to be another way.
"Next stop--Harlem," Jacob muttered to himself. Back to where he started. Back to wishing he could still sell newspapers. Back to the prison to inform his family that he still had no luck. If there was one thing that Jacob couldn't stand about visiting his family, it was going back to tell them that he was letting them down. So, he decided that he would tell a little white lie. They needed all of the hope they had in order to survive the debtor's home.
"Jacob, how are things going with you?"
Jacob drew his breath and fabricated, "Great! I found work, Ma. Ya don't gotta worry no more, I'll have all a ya outta here in no time."
"That's wonderful, Jake. I'll tell your father when he gets in from the factory. Last night, after you left, the guards came and told us that he had to work longer hours at night. It seems they're losing more and more people everyday. It gives me hope--maybe we'll be able to leave someday."
"A course ya will, Ma. I ain't gonna letcha stay here foreveh. Is Helen behavin'?"
"Oh, I wish you wouldn't use that language you picked up on the streets when you're around her. You know Helen repeats everything you say. She won't even call her father anything but Pop. She goes around saying things like, 'Don' be such a snitcheh, chump.'"
Jacob laughed as his mother shook her head in dismay. He grinned, "Next thing ya know, she'll be wantin' ta be a newsy."
Mrs. Parker rolled her eyes, "You haven't even heard her! She talks about it all the time. Every night, she keeps me up with stories you told her of what it's like being a newsy. Oh, that reminds me, what job did you get?"
"Oh, uh," Jacob was caught off guard. "Um, a newsy. Dey lemme stay at da house fer a while 'til I earn 'nough money ta pay 'em back."
"Don't you dare go into debt, Jacob Kenneth Parker! We have enough a taste of that already."
"I won't, Ma. Tell de uddehs dat it's gonna be a'right. De uddeh newsies're real nice."
"Where are you selling? There's a woman from the factory who used to live in East Harlem. She says they have a boys' lodging house there that's real nice, and even a girls' house in Harlem--just don't tell Helen."
"Yeah," Jacob covered, "Dat's where I'm sellin', actually. In East Harlem, not wit' da goils. Well, uh, I gotta go, Ma. I'll see ya tamorrrow."
"Goodbye, Jacob. I'll send Theresa to meet you tomorrow, she hasn't seen you yet."
Choking back the daily threat of sobbing, Jacob nodded. He said his goodbye and exited the gate without looking behind him.
A year passed without much of a change. Jacob continued to tell his family that he was a newsy while he continuing to sleep on the streets and do odd jobs for a meal.
What was I thinkin', sayin' 'at I could s'port me whole family when I can't even s'port meself. I'm seventeen, I should be able ta earn somethin'! Jacob was thinking to himself as he noticed a few boys gathered around at the corner of the sidewalk. Wanting to see what game they were playing, Jacob pushed his way through the younger boys to the middle of the circle. A couple of older boys were placing bets on who would win the next game of toss-penny.
"Hey, I'd like ta play," Jacob butted in. "I been known ta play a li'l toss-penny in me time."
The two older boys glanced at each other before agreeing to let Jacob join the game. "Da bet's up ta a quarteh. Ya think ya kin take it?"
Smiling, Jacob replied, "Dey don't call me Toss-Penny fer nuttin'."
"He's bluffin'," the oldest of the two boys said. "We're gonna cream 'im--might as well raise da bet ta forty cents."
"Forty-five," Jacob looked coolly at the boy.
"Fifty."
A grin playing at the corner of his lips, Jacob retaliated, "Fifty-five."
"Sixty."
"Whoa, hey," the other boy cut in, looking from Toss-Penny to the older boy. "Slow down, guys. It's just a game."
"Sixty-five," Jacob ignored the boy.
"Seventy, dat's me last bet."
Jacob folded his arms, "Aw, c'mon, why don'tcha jist make it an even t'ree quartehs? Ya ain't yella, like dis chump, here," he jerked his thumb towards the younger boy, "Are ya?"
The older boy gritted his teeth as the younger one looked expectantly at him. "Seventy-five cents, but dat's as far as I go."
"Fine. It's a lovely day fer bummin', ain't it?"
"Nothin' doin', just play da game."
"Right." Jacob slipped his hand in his pocket and fingered the penny that Helen had given him a year before. That was the one piece of money he would never spend. Now was its chance to work its magic. Jacob knew that he was great at playing toss-penny, that's why Helen nicknamed him that. But what if these boys were better? It was a chance he had to take--he was not ready to lie to his family again that night.
"How was I ta know he was dat good? I t'ought we had 'im fer sure."
"I told ya not ta bet so high. Now we ain't got no dinneh tonight."
"Pleasure doin' business wit'cha," Jacob grinned as he pocketed the three quarters. "Please, refer me to ya friends--I'm open all week." With a wink, Jacob began making his way down the street.
The older boy whistled to get his attention. "Hey, kid! What'd ya say yer name was?"
"Toss-Penny. Toss-Penny Parkeh."
"Ya play a good game, Parkeh."
Smiling, Toss-Penny thanked him. "You ain't so bad neitheh."
Looking over the sign that hung above the doors, Toss-Penny rubbed the back of his neck. Seventy-seven cents in his pocket, he stepped into the East Harlem Newsboy's Lodging House. Maybe 1904 would be a better year for him than 1903 had been.
