City of Orphans

City of Orphans

CHAPTER 1

Amazing things happen.
Look at someone on the street and you might never see that person again—ever. Then you bump into a stranger and your whole life changes—forever. See what I’m saying? It’s all ‘bout them words: “luck,” “chance,” “coincidence,” “accident,” “quirk,” “miracle,” plus a lot of words I’m guessing I don’t even know.
But the thing is, I got a story that could use all them words. ‘Bout a kid by the name of Maks Geless. That’s Maks, with a k. M-a-k-s.
Now, this Maks, he’s a regular height for a thirteen-year-old, ruddy-faced, shaggy brown hair, always wearing a cloth cap, canvas jacket, and trousers, plus decent boots. He’s a newsboy—what they call a “newsie.” So he’s holding up a copy of the New York City paper The World, and he’s shouting, “ Extra! Extra! Read all ‘bout it! ‘Murder at the Waldorf. Terrible Struggle with a Crazy Man! Two Men Killed!’ Read it in The World! The world’s greatest newspaper. Just two cents!”
Now, not everything gets into the papers, right? But see, the only one who knows what really happened up at the Waldorf is…Maks.
You’re thinking, how could this kid—this newsie—know?
I”ll tell you.
This story starts on Monday, October 9, 1893. That’s five days before the day of that headline you just heard. It’s early evening, the night getting nippy. Electric streetlamps just starting to glow. In other words, the long workday is winking.
Not for Maks. He’s 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 he’ll have bailed his whole bundle. Do that and he’ll have eighty cents in his pocket.
Now listen hard, ‘cause this is important.
In 1893 newsies buy their papers and then sell ‘em. So next day’s bundle is gonna cost Maks seventy-two cents. Then he sells ‘em for two cents each. Means, for his five hours’ work, he’ll 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 get.
You’re probably thinking, eight pennies—that ain’t 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 “Great Panic of 1893.” And the thing is, Maks’s family’s rent is due this week. Fifteen bucks! For them, that’s huge.
All I’m saying is, Maks’s family needs him to earn his share, which is—you guessed it!—eight cents a day.
Now, most days when Maks finishes selling his papers, he likes staying in the neighborhood to see how his newsie friends have done. Don’t forget, this is New York City. The Lower East Side. Something always happening.

© 2011 by Avi