First, a shout out to the DETROIT RED WINGS!!! Good luck tonight, guys!
Second, a shout out to the CK Class of 2002! Wahoo!! Almost done!!
Now, on with the story.
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When Hannah awoke the next morning, she was in her own bed in the lodging house. The sunlight streamed in and the voices of newsies filled the streets.
"Oh, no!" she thought, alarmed. "I overslept!" The events of the previous day were forgotten in her hurry to dress. When she emerged from the room, no one was in the halls. The smells of cooking wafted from the kitchen.
In the kitchen Kloppman was at the stove, as usual. Jack was seated at the small table, chatting with Kloppman. He looked over and saw Hannah in the doorway.
"Hey, Kloppy! Ya almost done?" he called.
"Hmmm," Kloppman answered vaguely, concentrating on what he was cooking.
"Hey, Hannah," Jack said to her as she seated herself at the table. "Feelin' betta?"
Hannah nodded, confused.
"Aren't you supposed to be selling papers?" she asked.
"Nah. I'se takin' da day off. Figured ya'd want da company."
"Company? Why?" The memories came flooding back to her. Her face grew sad and she looked down at the table.
Jack reached over and touched her hand gently.
"I know how ya feels," he sympathized. "It's like da world's gonna end. Like der ain't nuttin' left in life, right?"
Hannah nodded again.
"An' dat's why you an' I are gonna go out today instead of stayin' in dis ol' house. No offence, Kloppy."
"But what about my chores?" Hannah objected.
"I can manage. I managed before an' I'll manage today," Kloppman said as he placed a plate of eggs and bacon in front of her. "Special. Just fer today."
Although the breakfast smelled wonderful, it was also making her nauseated. She stood up quickly and ran to the washroom. In a few minutes she was back.
"I'm sorry," she apologized quickly.
"I knew Kloppman wasn' a good cook but I never seen anyone run away so fast," Jack joked.
"No, no, it wasn't that—" Hannah objected. Embarrassed, she began to devour the food.
"Whoa! Slow down!" Kloppman laughed. "Ya'll make yerself sick agin!"
While Hannah was eating, Jack went into her room and dug threw the trunk again. He triumphantly pulled out a knit shawl and carried his prize back to Hannah.
"Me muddah's shawl," he explained. "In case ya gets cold."
Hannah, finished eating, stood up and Jack gently wrapped the shawl around her thin shoulders.
"Now, scoot!" Kloppman ordered, clearing the dishes.
"Where are we going?" Hannah asked when they were outside.
"Figured I'd show ya around," Jack answered. "Ya've been here for a month an' still haven' really seen nuttin'"
They spent the morning walking the streets. Jack pointed out stores and restaurants and Medda's theater—which he promised to take her to later. They briefly stopped in front of a tenement.
"Da Jacobs used ta live here. Dey moved ta Joisey so's Mista Jacobs could git a job," Jack said sadly. "Davey was me friend an' Sarah was me goil. Dey still writes ta me, though."
"Do you have a girl now?" Hannah asked carefully.
"Nah. Der's some goils ya know but…" His voice trailed off. "I mean, dey don' mean nuttin'.
He smiled at her. Hannah blushed and looked away.
"Ya hungry?" Jack asked a while later.
Hannah nodded.
"Ya ever had a hot dog?"
She shook her head.
"Nevah?!? Well, den ya betta try one!"
He galloped off to a vendor down the street and returned a few minutes later with two hot dogs.
"An' it jus' so happens dat dis is where we catch da trolley," he said threw a mouthful of hot dog.
Hannah nibbled hers gingerly until she discovered that she liked it.
"Trolley?" she asked in between bites.
"Yeah. Wer goin' up town. Oh, dat reminds me!" He dashed off and returned with a bouquet of flowers.
"For you," he said, suddenly shy. He shoved the flowers at her and looked away.
"Thanks," Hannah laughed. Jack smiled, glad that she was happy.
The trolley finally arrived and they got on, chatting lightly for the whole ride.
"Chelsea!" the conductor called.
"Dis is us," Jack said. He took Hannah's hand and led her off the trolley before she could object.
A pit formed in Hannah's stomach. So he was taking her home after all. She felt betrayed. How could he do this? They'd promised! But to her surprise, he led her away from the direction of her house. They walked in silence, Jack glancing at a piece of paper he held in his hand and Hannah on the lookout for anyone who might recognize her.
Eventually they reached a large wrought-iron gate. Hannah looked up. "Cemetary" it said across the top. Jack took her hand and led her down the rows of gravestones until they arrived at what she recognized as her family's section. A large marble pillar with "Mitchell" inscribed on it marked the area. Around it were scattered numerous other marble stones, all varying in age. On the far end was a mound of earth with new grass growing on it. Jack led her to this grave. "Thomas Benjamin Mitchell" the stone read. "June 4, 1876 – April 20, 1900 Beloved Son and Brother".
Hannah started at the marker, finally fully accepting Thomas' death. There it was, written on the stone. Tears filled her eyes again and she fell to her knees.
"Oh, Thomas," she wept. "What am I going to do without you?"
As her tears subsided, Jack knelt down next to her and placed his arm around her shoulders. Hannah slumped against him, wanting his protection.
"I miss him so much!" she cried. "Why did I leave? He needed me and I didn't even know it! He doesn't know I'm okay or anything! I'm such a fool!"
"It's okay," Jack soothed. "He understands now."
He didn't know where the words were coming from. They just flowed and seemed to sooth Hannah. Eventually she stood up and looked down at the grave.
"I'm sorry, Thomas," she whispered. "I love you."
Bending down, she placed the bouquet on the mound. Then she lightly kissed the gravestone and turned away. Jack was there and she fell into his arms gratefully. They embraced. A strange feeling filled Jack, a feeling he couldn't explain. Slowly, he tilted Hannah's chin toward him. She looked at him with tear-filled eyes. He kissed her lips gently and pulled her close once more.
Second, a shout out to the CK Class of 2002! Wahoo!! Almost done!!
Now, on with the story.
************************************************************************
When Hannah awoke the next morning, she was in her own bed in the lodging house. The sunlight streamed in and the voices of newsies filled the streets.
"Oh, no!" she thought, alarmed. "I overslept!" The events of the previous day were forgotten in her hurry to dress. When she emerged from the room, no one was in the halls. The smells of cooking wafted from the kitchen.
In the kitchen Kloppman was at the stove, as usual. Jack was seated at the small table, chatting with Kloppman. He looked over and saw Hannah in the doorway.
"Hey, Kloppy! Ya almost done?" he called.
"Hmmm," Kloppman answered vaguely, concentrating on what he was cooking.
"Hey, Hannah," Jack said to her as she seated herself at the table. "Feelin' betta?"
Hannah nodded, confused.
"Aren't you supposed to be selling papers?" she asked.
"Nah. I'se takin' da day off. Figured ya'd want da company."
"Company? Why?" The memories came flooding back to her. Her face grew sad and she looked down at the table.
Jack reached over and touched her hand gently.
"I know how ya feels," he sympathized. "It's like da world's gonna end. Like der ain't nuttin' left in life, right?"
Hannah nodded again.
"An' dat's why you an' I are gonna go out today instead of stayin' in dis ol' house. No offence, Kloppy."
"But what about my chores?" Hannah objected.
"I can manage. I managed before an' I'll manage today," Kloppman said as he placed a plate of eggs and bacon in front of her. "Special. Just fer today."
Although the breakfast smelled wonderful, it was also making her nauseated. She stood up quickly and ran to the washroom. In a few minutes she was back.
"I'm sorry," she apologized quickly.
"I knew Kloppman wasn' a good cook but I never seen anyone run away so fast," Jack joked.
"No, no, it wasn't that—" Hannah objected. Embarrassed, she began to devour the food.
"Whoa! Slow down!" Kloppman laughed. "Ya'll make yerself sick agin!"
While Hannah was eating, Jack went into her room and dug threw the trunk again. He triumphantly pulled out a knit shawl and carried his prize back to Hannah.
"Me muddah's shawl," he explained. "In case ya gets cold."
Hannah, finished eating, stood up and Jack gently wrapped the shawl around her thin shoulders.
"Now, scoot!" Kloppman ordered, clearing the dishes.
"Where are we going?" Hannah asked when they were outside.
"Figured I'd show ya around," Jack answered. "Ya've been here for a month an' still haven' really seen nuttin'"
They spent the morning walking the streets. Jack pointed out stores and restaurants and Medda's theater—which he promised to take her to later. They briefly stopped in front of a tenement.
"Da Jacobs used ta live here. Dey moved ta Joisey so's Mista Jacobs could git a job," Jack said sadly. "Davey was me friend an' Sarah was me goil. Dey still writes ta me, though."
"Do you have a girl now?" Hannah asked carefully.
"Nah. Der's some goils ya know but…" His voice trailed off. "I mean, dey don' mean nuttin'.
He smiled at her. Hannah blushed and looked away.
"Ya hungry?" Jack asked a while later.
Hannah nodded.
"Ya ever had a hot dog?"
She shook her head.
"Nevah?!? Well, den ya betta try one!"
He galloped off to a vendor down the street and returned a few minutes later with two hot dogs.
"An' it jus' so happens dat dis is where we catch da trolley," he said threw a mouthful of hot dog.
Hannah nibbled hers gingerly until she discovered that she liked it.
"Trolley?" she asked in between bites.
"Yeah. Wer goin' up town. Oh, dat reminds me!" He dashed off and returned with a bouquet of flowers.
"For you," he said, suddenly shy. He shoved the flowers at her and looked away.
"Thanks," Hannah laughed. Jack smiled, glad that she was happy.
The trolley finally arrived and they got on, chatting lightly for the whole ride.
"Chelsea!" the conductor called.
"Dis is us," Jack said. He took Hannah's hand and led her off the trolley before she could object.
A pit formed in Hannah's stomach. So he was taking her home after all. She felt betrayed. How could he do this? They'd promised! But to her surprise, he led her away from the direction of her house. They walked in silence, Jack glancing at a piece of paper he held in his hand and Hannah on the lookout for anyone who might recognize her.
Eventually they reached a large wrought-iron gate. Hannah looked up. "Cemetary" it said across the top. Jack took her hand and led her down the rows of gravestones until they arrived at what she recognized as her family's section. A large marble pillar with "Mitchell" inscribed on it marked the area. Around it were scattered numerous other marble stones, all varying in age. On the far end was a mound of earth with new grass growing on it. Jack led her to this grave. "Thomas Benjamin Mitchell" the stone read. "June 4, 1876 – April 20, 1900 Beloved Son and Brother".
Hannah started at the marker, finally fully accepting Thomas' death. There it was, written on the stone. Tears filled her eyes again and she fell to her knees.
"Oh, Thomas," she wept. "What am I going to do without you?"
As her tears subsided, Jack knelt down next to her and placed his arm around her shoulders. Hannah slumped against him, wanting his protection.
"I miss him so much!" she cried. "Why did I leave? He needed me and I didn't even know it! He doesn't know I'm okay or anything! I'm such a fool!"
"It's okay," Jack soothed. "He understands now."
He didn't know where the words were coming from. They just flowed and seemed to sooth Hannah. Eventually she stood up and looked down at the grave.
"I'm sorry, Thomas," she whispered. "I love you."
Bending down, she placed the bouquet on the mound. Then she lightly kissed the gravestone and turned away. Jack was there and she fell into his arms gratefully. They embraced. A strange feeling filled Jack, a feeling he couldn't explain. Slowly, he tilted Hannah's chin toward him. She looked at him with tear-filled eyes. He kissed her lips gently and pulled her close once more.