Return to the streets (OPEN)

[Street]

She slid the loose, creaky board to the side and slipped through the hole, a few splinters snagging her threadbare sweater. She moved quietly, knowing just when to stop the board so it did not make noise. It was a practiced, swift motion for her. In the blink of an eye, she was inside the rotting fence, staring down at the black almost still water of the river. She heard people walking quietly, the only noise being rocks sliding and clinking over other rocks. It was the noise of the deliquents, or the vagabonds of the city.

She hurried down the steep embankment, pressing her tiny body to the damp walls and sliding almost. Fires were now seen, their reflections leaping off the walls and the river, an orange hue that meant both safety and danger. Safety for the warmth. Danger due to the possiblity of discovery. She turned the corner and came upon her home. The old one. Along the damp and slick wall of the bridge, rags were heaped upon motionless bodies. Down amongst the rocks and small plants were small fires, with potatoes, vegetables, anything edible, shove in the coals. People sat by these fires, their eyes fixated on the food. If they blinked or looked away, it would disappear.

She approached the largest fire there, with a young man slumbering away on the stone by it, sprawled out. On hand was stretched toward the river, the other rested on his stomach. She crouched and pushed her dirty hair behind her dirty ear and watched him with her bright grey eyes. She reached out and took his rough and callused hand, liking the weight and the warmth of it. Her other small hand shook his shoulder and she whispered, "Nick... Nick..." He stirred and his eyes struggled to focus on her.

"Well if it ain't little Rosie Lexeme. Come back at last, Rosie?" He asked, his words punctured by hiccups. She shook her head and looked at her bare toes as they settled against the cold stones.

"Nah. I can ta ask yer advice, Nick. Nick... If ya like someone... And ya migth even love them... What do ya do? Even if it's hopeless? Even if they're wrapped up in someone else? Someone prettier?" She looked at him quietly, her eyes worried. He reached out with his tanned, strong hand and ruffled her hair.

"After all these years and ya ask me something like that? My little Rosie's growing up..." He sighed heavily and said, "I remember when all you cared about was getting more cinnamon buns, and cuddling up next to Liam or Sean when we went to sleep."

"Ya always made me sleep near ya, Nick."

"That's 'cause yer my Rosie." He growled cheerfully. She smiled half-heartedly. "This is what ya do, Rosie... Ya go right up to him and say with your usual bravado, 'I like you and I can't help it.' Then, if he likes you back... He may something back." He shrugged and plopped back down onto the stones. Before rolling over he said quietly, "And you are pretty, Rosie. Never seen such big grey eyes." And he fell asleep while she blushed into the darkness.

Street watched Nick slumber on, her mind swirling. Should she just tell him and hope for the best? She did not know what to do. Instead, she stood and wandered to the river side and sat in the dim light, her back to the camp, and brought her knees to her chest, her thin arms wrapping around her body. And for the first time in her life, she wished they were someone else's.

Word Count: 617

[Chase Neumann]

Chase watched from across the street at the girl that slowly aproached one of the fires. She stopped and croutched down by a sleeping person. He crept toward her slowly. One of his specialties was sneakiness. Chase soon found out that the sleeping person the girl had croutched by was a boy- well not so much a boy but not yet a man. He heard the girl calling him Nick and he realised by the name and his rough voice that it couldn't be anyone but Mush Meyers from Manhattan. Mush had called her Rosie. Rosie Lexeme. He wasn't familiar with that particular name. He walked more slowly staring at her, trying to see through the dark to figure out who she was. Chase then tripped over a stray cat. It hissed at him and scratched his leg. He cursed himself for not watching where he was going and for letting his mind wander. He looked up a the girl and pressed himself against the wall, hoping for camoflauge. He couldn't let her see him like this now. Spying.

Not spying. he thought. But he couldn't think of any other word. Seeing someone at night trying to be quiet and sneaky like she didn't want to be found or followed and following her on an impulse then hiding against a building after a dammed cat tripped him. Chase exhaled slowly, trying to gather his thoughts and stay calm and quiet.

[Street]

Street continued to watch Nick sleep. She was caught up in day dreaming. She was transfixed by the flames of the fire. Such pretty oranges and red and blues... She sighed and plopped back onto the rocks, not minding the smooth stones under her hands. They were chilled and provided a good contrast to the fire. She was closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep when she heard a cat hiss. Her usual street rat response was to clutch her food closer and stand quickly. Only she had no food, but she stood quickly.

Street peered into the darkness and approached the wall, where the newer tenants of Under the Brigde slept. "Hello?" She called out, wrapping her thin sweater around her bony body. She spotted a boy. Tall, blonde, thick. "Hello, come ta the light, 'tis warmer." She said, gesturing to the fire. She turned without saying anything and then sat by the fire again. She pointed to Nick. "This is Nick, but most people know him as Under. 'Cause he's lived Under the Bridhe so long." She said, with a touch of pride.

"I'm Street." She said quietly, but with the same amount of pride.

[Chase Neumann]

Chase took a deep breath and continued cursing himself in his head. He closed his eyes for a moment then opened them and stepped out of the shadows he's lived in for so long. He looked down at the sleeping boy, Bridge. He looked anywhere but Street. "I'm Chase. Some people call me Tiger." He shrugged.
Chase finally looked up at Street. His forehead furrowed, "Yer cold. Come on, come sit." He said guesturing to the fire. "If ya want." He added as an after thought. He was raised as a gentleman and he always would be. For the most part. He smirked as he thought this. He swallowed and came out of his own mind and looked at Street again. He half turned and looked into the shadows behind him. He couldn't help himself. It might look like paranoia, but he felt the need to keep watch and keep Street safe. Oh, and Bridge as well. His protectiveness was going crazy right now, standing there. He looked back at Street, trying to keep the concern from his eyes.

[Street]

Street watched the strange boy. "That's why I asked ya to sit by the fire silly! 'Tis cold over by the wall..." She glanced back at the lumps of rags that were various people, sleeping close together. "What are ya doin' Under the Bridge?" She asked, tilting her head to the side. "Not many people come down here... Not many people know about this here. And that's a good thing, otherwise the bulls would be after us."

She smiled at him before offering him a potato that had been baked in the coals of the fire. "Welcome ta Bohemia." She said softly, quoting The Librarian. He liked to read her stories about Bohemia, and she had been able to parallel that world to hers. "Eat it, it's good, no butter though. Only nobs have butter." She chuckled, before splitting her own potato open. One more was left by the fire, saved for the sleeping Bridge.

"Tiger... That's an interestin' name. Chase too... Were ya chasin' something alot when ya were little?" She asked. "I'm called Street cause that's were I live, ya know... Better then any other name, I think." She nodded her head defiantely. "I used ta live under here. Did so for a few years, actually, but now I live in Midtown, in them warehouses." She shrugged, not sure if she should divulge the pickpockets and August.

[Chase Neumann]

Chase sighed in relief when she started toward the fire; he followed her. He sat beside her and turned towards her slightly so he could watch the darkness with his perifial vision. He shrugged at her question and accepted the potato. "I dunno. I was just around i guess." He looked away from her and opened his potato and took a bite. It was delicious. Chase hadn't eaten in days, he just didn't have enough time to spare anymore between selling papes and doing the various things he did all day.

Then, he thought about her other question.
"Tiger... That's an interestin' name. Chase too... Were ya chasin' something alot when ya were little?" Chase couldn't help himself and he chuckled at her question. "Nah, i don't think so anyway. I can't remember meh past very well. All i know is that meh mum died when i was born and meh pop was in the war. I got sent to a house hereh in New York and ran away; they ain't caught meh yet that is if they still lookin' fer meh." He smiled at her. "This," He said holding up what was left of his potato, "is delicious." Chase smiled at Street again.

[Street]

Street nodded, acting like she knew what he was talking about. "Well, people who live unda da bridge are some of the friendliest people ya'll meet in New York. They're always willin' ta share their bread and such with ya." She ripped open her potato, and a column of steam rose from it. She breathed the fumes in deeply, loving the smell and her mouth watering. "I love potatoes. They're cheap and easy ta make, too. Have lots of nutrients, they do."

Street looked at him. "I don't remember anythin' either. I know I was found by newises when I was four, then kicked out of the orphange at seven. I lived here for a few years where Under there taught me how ta pick pockets. Then I joined the Midtown gang and been livin' with them ever since." She smiled widely, taking a big bite of the cooled potato. "My parents are dead, dead, dead. Deader then... Latin." She looked confused, "'Least, that's what the librarian over in Queens says alot. 'It's deader then Latin'. I didn't know what that was, but he explained it ta me. He's real nice, gives me bread if I listen ta his stories quietly."

Street took another bite, "He also likes it when I ask questions, so, I always get bread. I always ask questions." She explained. She nodded her head. "Isn't it? And we don't even need butter! Butter's for hoity-toitys, Under says." She pointed to the sleeping vagabond gently. "So... You're a newsie. I can tell by your inky fingers. I'm a pickpocket. You can tell by me... Sticky fingers." She wiggled her fingers, laughing. Then she held up some coins. "These are yours, by the way." She grinned at him playfully.

[Chase Neumann]

Chase smiled at Street's laugh. He liked it. She held up some coins and he felt in his pocket, his forehead cumpled. When he found nothing, he looked up at her with a suprised look on his face. "When did ya-?" He continued to feel in his pocket just in case he was mistaken. Street held out the coins to him and he took them with astonishment. "That was crazy." He said laughing. "How'd ya do it?" He smiled at her again. He shook his head then lifted his hand with the coins in it. "How 'bout we get somethin' else ta eat? Sie essen?" He asked her in German if she was hungry.
It wasn't all that late and the potatoes were gone. Besides, Chase wouldn't have felt right if Street didn't eat anything else besides one lousy potato, skinny as she was already. Chase looked up into the night sky. Though it wasn't too late in the evening, it was mostly dark and the stars were out. He used to love just laying back on the ground and looking up at the stars trying to make pictures from them. But, that was a while ago, and he didn't have time for that kind of stuff now.

[Street]

Street giggled at his surprise. "Never turn yer back on a pickpocket. Rule number one." She leaned closer, looking around carefully and then whispered behind her hand, "Pickpockets don't have ta worry about bein' picked. We can feel it. Plus, as soon as we get money, we spend it." She grinned mischieviously and dumped the coins into his hand carefully, her intent grey eyes watching each one as it fell. "Coins are pretty." She murmured absently. Then she glanced at him, confusion clouding her face.

"Somethin' else? How can ya still be hungry after that potatoe? I can go two days on just that... But if ya insist..." She pulled from her pocket two small lumps wrapped in newspaper. The newspaper was wet in places from the steam of something that was once hot. She carefully unwrapped one of them to reveal a cinnamon bun. A perfectly gold and plump cinnamon roll. She tucked the other away back into her pocket, once again wrapped in the paper.

"Here, we can split this. I usually save them for when me and Chancey get ta-gather, but yer a special case, eh Chase?" She chuckled. "That rhymed." She twittered quietly. Carefully, with her tongue between her teeth, she ripped the delicate roll in half. No steam rose. It was cold, but still delicious. Once Chase had some (a somewhat larger piece) she waited patiently for him to eat his. "Go on! They're good! I always buy cinnamon rolls. Never knick them. They always taste funny if I knick them." She smiled brightly up at Chase, completely and utterly trusting.

[Chase Neumann]

Chase laughed quietly as he accepted the roll from Street. She was looking at him almost expectantly so he opened his cinnamon roll and took a bite. She was right, they were delicious. He nodded as he chewed. When he finished, he smiled at her. He stared into the dimming fire. Then he slowly looked back up at her. "That was good." He said, smiling. "Hows bout tomorrow-" He paused. "How bout I buy tomorrow? We can go anywhereh ya want." He told her, promise in his voice. He stared into Street's eyes , and had the urge to kiss her.
Just then, Chase heard a noise. It wasn't a very loud noise, but he still heard it. He stopped everything he was doing and listened intently. Really bad timing. He thought. He let out a slow breath, trying to listen for anything. When he didn't hear anything, he sighed and looked back at Street. He smilied apoligeticaly. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, someone screamed. Adrenaline kicked in and Chase was on his feet. He looked toward where he'd heard the scream, but then realised he didn't know where it came from. With the bridge being there, everything echoed. His eyes darted back and forth trying to detect any movement.