City of Orphans Tapa dura - 2011

Resumen

Extracto

1

Amazing things happen.

Look at someone on the street and you might never see that person againâÈ'ever. Then you bump into a stranger and your whole life changesâÈ'forever. See what IâÈçm saying? ItâÈçs all âÈçbout them words: âÈêluck,âÈë âÈêchance,âÈë âÈêcoincidence,âÈë âÈêaccident,âÈë âÈêquirk,âÈë âÈêmiracle,âÈë plus a lot of words IâÈçm guessing I donâÈçt even know.

But the thing is, I got a story that could use all them words. âÈçBout a kid by the name of Maks Geless. ThatâÈçs Maks, with a k. M-a-k-s.

Now, this Maks, heâÈçs regular height for a thirteen-year-old, ruddy-faced, shaggy brown hair, always wearing a cloth cap, canvas jacket, and trousers, plus decent boots. HeâÈçs a newsboyâÈ'what they call a âÈênewsie.âÈë So heâÈçs holding up a copy of the New York City newspaper The World,andheâÈçsshouting, âÈêExtra! Extra! Read all âÈçbout it! âÈæMurder at the Waldorf. Terrible Struggle with a Crazy Man! Two Men Killed!âÈç Read it in The World! The worldâÈçs greatest newspaper. Just two cents!âÈë

Now, not everything gets into the papers, right? But see, the only one who knows what really happened up at the Waldorf is . . . Maks.

YouâÈçre thinking, how could this kidâÈ'this newsieâÈ'know?

IâÈçll tell you.

This story starts on Monday, October 9, 1893. ThatâÈçs five days before the day of that headline you just heard. ItâÈçs early evening, the night getting nippy. Electric streetlamps just starting to glow. In other words, the long workday is winking.

Not for Maks. HeâÈçs still on his regular corner, Hester Street and the Bowery. Been peddling The World for five hours and has sold thirty-nine papers. Sell one more and heâÈçll have bailed his whole bundle. Do that and heâÈçll have eighty cents in his pocket.

Now listen hard, âÈçcause this is important.

In 1893 newsies buy their papers and then sell âÈçem. So next dayâÈçs bundle is gonna cost Maks seventy-two cents. Then he sells âÈçem for two cents each. Means, for his five hoursâÈç work, heâÈçll earn a whole eight cents. Not much, you say? Hey, these days, six cents buys you a can of pork and beans, enough eats for a day, which is more than some people gets.

YouâÈçre probably thinking, eight penniesâÈ'that ainâÈçt hardly worth working all them hours. But this is 1893. These are hard times. Factories closing. Workers laid off. Not many jobs. Housing not easy to find. Fact, people are calling these days the âÈêGreat Panic of 1893.âÈë And the thing is, MaksâÈçs familyâÈçs rent is due this week. Fifteen bucks! For them, thatâÈçs huge.

All IâÈçm saying is, MaksâÈçs family needs him to earn his share, which isâÈ'you guessed itâÈ'eight cents a day.

Now, most days when Maks finishes selling his papers, he likes staying in the neighborhood to see how his newsie pals have done. DonâÈçt forget, this is New York City. The Lower East Side. Something always happening.

This night all Maks wants to do is to get home and eat. No surprise; heâÈçs hungry twenty-five hours a day, eight days a week. And last time he ate was breakfastâÈ'a roll and a bowl of coffee-milk.

So Maks holds up his last newspaper and gives it his best bark: âÈêExtra! Extra! Read all âÈçbout it! âÈæJoe Gorker, Political Boss, Accused of Stealing Millions from City! Trial Date Set! Others Arrested!âÈç Read it in The World! WorldâÈçs greatest newspaper. Just two cents! Only two cents!âÈë

Sure, sometimes crying headlines, Maks gets to head doodling that someday heâÈçll be in the paper for doing something great, like maybe making a flying machine. So The World would pop his picture on its first page, like this here mug Joe Gorker. Then Maks reminds himself that his job is selling the news, not being it. Besides, The World is always laying down lines âÈçbout Joe Gorker, screaming that the guy is a grifter-grafter so crooked that he could pass for a pretzel.

Anyway, MaksâÈçs shout works âÈçcause next moment, a fancy gentâÈ'top hat, handlebar mustache, starched white collar, what some people call a âÈêswell stiffâÈëâÈ'wags a finger at him.

Maks runs over.

The guy shows a nickel. âÈêGot change, kid?âÈë

âÈêSorry, sir. No, sir.âÈë

I know: Maks may be my hero, but he ainâÈçt no saint. Like I told you, for him, pennies are big. Needs all he can get.

âÈêFine,âÈë says the swell. âÈêKeep the change.âÈë

âÈêThank you, sir!âÈë Maks says as he slings his last sheet to this guy.

The guy walks off, reading the headlines.

Maks, telling himself his day is done, pops the nickel into his pocket. Except no sooner does he do that than who does he see?

He sees Bruno.

This Bruno is one serious nasty fella. Taller than Maks by a head, his face is sprinkled with peach fuzz, greasy red hair flopping over his eyes, one of which is squinty, and on his head heâÈçs got a tipped-back brown derby, which makes his ears stick out like cute cauliflowers.

But the thing is, Bruno may be only seventeen years old, but heâÈçs head of the Plug Ugly Gang. Lately, Bruno and his gang have been slamming World newsies, beating âÈçem up, stealing their money, burning their papers.

So Maks knows if Bruno is giving him the eye, things gonna be bad. And itâÈçs not just âÈçbout being robbed. If Maks loses his money, he ainâÈçt gonna be able to buy papers for next day. No papers, no more money and the family rent donâÈçt get paid. In other words, no choice. Maks has to get home with his money.

Trouble is, his home is a three-room tenement flat over to Birmingham Street, near the East River. ThatâÈçs fifteen big blocks away, which, right now, feels as far as the North Pole.

In other words, if Maks wants to keep his money, heâÈçs gonna have to either outrun that Plug Ugly or fight him.

DonâÈçt know âÈçbout you, but Maks would rather run.

Âû 2011 Avi Wortis