November 1899

"Georgie, come dance with me." I teased my older brother, as I tried to pull his arm, and the rest of his body, to the dance floor.
"We have to go home; I need sleep if I'm going to get up tomorrow." He sighed and tried to pull his hand out of my iron grip. He wasn't getting away with not dancing,
not on his last night at home.
"Please Georgie, just once more, you're leaving." He sighed heavily again."Only 'cause I love ya Sis." He took my hand and led me to the crowd of rowdy dancers.
We whirled and twirled to the lively fiddle, in between couples whispering in each other's ears and the threadbare hand-me-down skirts spinning.
"George, you're going to go away on this ship, to far-away lands, you're going to meet pretty girls and forget all about your boring sister back here in Boston." He smirked down at me.
"You'll always be my best girl Katie, in addition to being the prettiest in Southie." I smiled, smacking his arm slightly. "And I'm not just saying that 'cause I'm ya brotha." I laugh because I know he is.
The music ends, and he leads me off the dance floor, out of the pub, onto the street and to our tiny apartment where I have trouble sleeping, my dog Shep, curled up next to my feet. I spent the rest of the night worrying about the only family I had left going out to sea the next morning.

"Be safe." I whispered desperately.
"I will." He shrugs back.
"George Alexander Withrow, you promise me, you have to come back, you're the only family I've got."
"Alright, I, George Alexander Withrow, promise I will do everything possible to come back in one piece from this voyage." He raised his eyebrow. "Good"
"Excellent." His deep, blue eyes looked into my matching ones.
"But really, I'll miss you Katie."
"Me too Georgie." He pulled me up into a bear hug. He let me down and leaned in to kiss my forehead. He picked up his rough canvas bag, and turned to walk down the docks,
turning one final time to wave back at me before he walks up the gangplank. I wave back.
"Love you Georgie." I whispered. I sighed. I'm alone. I pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders and shivered.

MAY 16 1900

TO: KATHERINE ROSE WITHROW 218 WEST BROADWAY SOUTH BOSTON MASS

I AM SAFE STOP MEET IN NEW YORK MAY 31 STOP I PROMISED KATIE STOP LOVE GEORGE

No word for six months. Absolutely no way of knowing if my eighteen year old brother was dead or alive. No way of looking for him, only a little money
I had saved from working those endless hours at the factory. The only thing that kept me from going crazy during those long months was my side job.

Which really could not be considered a job if I wasn't being paid for it. I got paid with the occasional meager meal or a scrap of meat for Shep, the most
I would except from my equally destitute neighbors. There really wasn't much to go around in South Boston at the end of the century.
Just plenty of diseases and broken bones. I could fix those though.

They thought I was a saint for helping.
But it made me forget about George for even a little bit, so truly I was being selfish.

I was at the neighbor's house instructing her on how to help relieve her infant's harsh cough when I heard a knock on my own door.
I started packing straight way. I had nothing to stay for, nothing except saddening memories of my family to haunt me. So I packed up the book that
contained all my mother's medical knowledge, she had had George write everything down because she herself had not been literate, my best and only
other dress, and the shawl my mother made for me before she had died.

When I was done, I sat on my bed with a heavy sigh. What was I doing? Rushing off to New York, leaving my job, and my home, he might not
even come. As I sat thinking everything over I heard the the familiar sound of boots pounding their way up the stairs to my apartment.
"Katie Withrow, please come quick, my little brother fell and there's blood everywhere and his leg looks awful bad."
My bandages, that's what I forgot to pack, my bandages.

June 6th, 1900

He's a week late. That's what I get for hoping. No job, in a strange city, alone. I sit on a bench, just looking out on the harbor.
Looking at every ship coming in to see if it's his. A week is not that long; I try to reason with the doubt gnawing at me. I already convincing myself
he was dead once, or that there was the possibility, I could do it again.
But the thing is, I don't want to. I want to have that hope.
My stomach rumbles, telling me that I've somehow forgotten that I haven't eaten in days.
Well, I haven't forgotten, just don't have money to eat. Shep licks my hand, his head lying in my lap.
It's twilight, the sun is gone and it slowly becomes night; I curl up on the bench trying to get some sleep.

"Should we wake her up?"
"Nah, just leave her, it's none of our business." A gruffer voice answers back.
"It's not safe for girls down here."
"But she's got the dog, she'll be fine."
"Skitts..."
"Fine, if you're so concerned then why don't you wake her up?"
"I will."
"Fine, do it."
"I'm gonna, give me a second would ya?"
I felt Shep's head go up, a small growl, and a warm hand on my shoulder, shaking it softly.
"Uh, Miss?" I sit straight up, startling the teenage boy in front of me. I just stare at him.
"Uh, hello." I stroke Shep's head, calming both our nerves as I take in my surroundings. A boy about my age stood in front of me, his dark curly hair
under his cap, his tanned skin, his raggedy clothes not much better than mine, his big brown eyes looking back at me concerned.
"Sorry miss, but I've seen you here a couple of nights this week, and wanted to see I could help." I hear a sigh behind me. A taller boy with messy hair
and a pink undershirt looks apprehensive behind him.
"Hey Mush, wanna get going, I've really gots to sell a few more papes, you know me lodging money."
The first boy smiles apologetically at me.
"Sorry 'bout him, he's kinda a downer." He sees me brush away my foolish tears.
"Aww, don't cry, he's just an idiot, if he can't get money he can just walk over to Brooklyn to his mum's." The other boy grumbles something about not wanting to go home.
"It's not that." I whisper. "I'm fine." I smile weakly.
"So why are you sleeping on the streets, it's not safe for a goil, kid like me yeah, but not a pretty goil like youse."
"Waiting for my brotha." I murmur and he grins.
"Brotha? You mean brudda? What's a goil from Boston doing in New York?
"Like I said, waiting for my brother." He smiles to himself and looks out to the harbor.
"He out at sea?" I nod.
"Well, there'll be no ships coming in tonight, looks like there'll be a storm, but if you want there's a bunk at the lodging house which will be a lot more comfortable than that
there bench you been sleeping on." He quickly adds. "Long as you got five cents." He reaches over and scratches Shep behind the ears.
"Why are you being so nice to me? I don't even know you?""Well, me name's Leo, me friends call me Mush, you can choose, the here's Skittery, he's a newsies just like me,
I'm fifteen years old, my birthday's May 18th, I think, me papa's Italian, me mama's Puerto Rican, my favorite color's orange, and I love selling papes. He takes a long breath. "So how 'bout you." I laugh.
"I'm Katherine Withrow, or Katie, my birthday's October 18th, I'm sixteen, and my favorite color's blue..." I am surprised at myself for giving a stranger so much information.
"Just like your eyes." Skittery murmurs to himself. We look back at him, as if remembering he was there. Mush continues, ignoring Skittery's strange comment.
"So will you stay with us, at least till your brudda comes back eh, or you get a job?"
"I guess." I finally relent, he grins back. Skittery breathes a sigh of relief that we're finally done. I grab my small bag with my few belonging and scan the dark harbor once
again before I let a strange boy lead me through the streets of an even stranger city, my border collie trotting behind me.