Woman of the Month - Chapter 3

3. An Incident in the Alley

The sun sank slowly below the water’s surface as it flowed calmly over the river. With the retreat of light, shadows arrived. Dark shades, like large wings, spread over the broad paved road.

“Waaahh!”

Nearby, a child’s sorrowful cry burst forth. Penelope Rockervilt, who had been walking along the Hudstone Riverbank, stopped in her tracks and looked around.

“Miss, we don’t have time for this dawdling.”

Penelope’s nanny, Mamie, waddled beside her and stopped as well. Anxiously, she grabbed Penelope’s waist.

“Mamie, a child is crying.”

“So what?”

“He might be lost, or hurt. We need to check.”

“If we delay any longer, the Madam might get upset. Let’s just go, Miss.”

Mamie shook her body vehemently in opposition. In the thick darkness, her black skin blended in, and her white sclera stood out vividly every time she blinked.

Today was the day Penelope Rockervilt’s mother was hosting a banquet at home. To avoid her’s sharp scolding, Penelope needed to arrive at the Rockervilt mansion at least six hours before the banquet began.

Even at a minimum, it would take six hours for Penelope to prepare for the banquet: soaking in rosewater, applying scented oil, putting on makeup, styling her hair, dressing in a gown, and wearing jewelry. The problem was that there were only three hours left until the banquet.

“How can I just pass by when the crying hasn’t stopped, Mamie?”

Lightly scolding Mamie, Penelope lifted her dress slightly. Unlike the well-maintained riverside road ideal for walking, the alleys between the main roads were often dirty with horse dung, carcasses, and sewage that would soil shoes and clothes.

“I won’t be responsible when the Madam scolds you.”

Grumbling, Mamie followed Penelope, though she still helped hold up the hem of her skirt.

“What’s your name? Why are you crying?”

A young man’s voice mixed with the sound of the child’s sobbing. The uncontrollable crying had already turned into sniffles, with occasional hiccups.

Penelope and Mamie carefully approached the corner of a building, listening to the conversation flowing from a few steps away. In a small clearing were two figures: a short child and a tall man.

“T-Thomas.”

“Alright, Thomas. What’s made you cry like this?”

The man crouched down on one knee, speaking to the boy in a playful tone. His movements caused his bright silver hair, illuminated by the light leaking from a nearby building, to flutter.

“…I lost my money.”

“Money?”

Thomas hiccuped again, then let out a long, heavy sigh and tears. His dirty, worn-out sleeve, blackened with grime, was now smeared with snot.

“Where? How?”

“I earned it selling newspapers. I was running, and I don’t know where I dropped it. It’s too dark to find it.”

“Newspapers?”

“Yes. I needed it to buy bread. Now it’s all over.”

Poor thing. Penelope muttered.

The children selling newspapers on the streets of Newport—“newsboys”—were mostly orphans. Without homes or families, they lived on the streets, surviving by selling newspapers. They would go to the newspaper company at dawn, buy bundles of newspapers in stacks of 100, and resell them to people.

Since unsold papers could not be returned, the children wandered until late at night, shouting “Newspaper!” until their voices gave out. Even after running around and shouting all day, they barely earned enough to buy a loaf of bread. Some of it also had to be saved to buy papers for the next day.

“He could be lying, Miss,” Mamie whispered in a hushed tone.

Newport was home to all kinds of people—rich and poor, good and bad—scrambling to survive. The city was like a boiling cauldron, where all ingredients had been thrown together and left to stew.

Some earned money honestly, but many others tricked and exploited others. And youth didn’t always mean innocence. Living on the streets—shivering in the cold and crying from hunger—made even the youngest children grow mean and cruel.

“Don’t you remember when we almost got into trouble two years ago?”

Listening to Mamie’s warning, Penelope leaned against the building wall. Mamie’s wariness wasn’t without reason.

Around this time two years ago, Penelope and Mamie had encountered a boy with the same pitiful story as Thomas. Penelope had opened her handbag to give him money for bread, only to be suddenly shoved backward.

Leaving the shrieking Mamie and the shocked Penelope behind, the boy ran far away, the bag snatched from Penelope swinging in his hand.

Unfortunately, Penelope had landed in a slimy garbage heap full of filthy water. Though she longed to strip off her clothes and wash herself immediately, there was no brown coupe to take her home. The sour smell of the unknown liquid that soaked her dress had been unbearable.

In the end, Penelope and Mamie had to trudge all the way from Midtown to 70th Street that day. They had pushed through people recoiling from the stench of her dirty dress, regretful of their misplaced kindness.

“Come to think of it, people never change. You got scammed then, and here you are again.”

Mamie shook her head in disbelief. Penelope smiled faintly and turned her attention back to the two in the clearing.

“I just found this coin on the road here,”

The man said, rummaging through his pocket.

“Could this gold coin be the money you lost?”

He opened his palm and showed Thomas. Penelope chuckled quietly. No matter how many newspapers one sold in a day, it was impossible to earn a gold coin.

“Goodness! That newsboy is obviously going to claim it’s his.”

Mamie sighed, muttering that the man would soon find his pockets emptied, or even end up covered in trash.

“Uh, n-no.”

But Thomas’s response surprised Mamie.

“That gold coin isn’t mine. I’ve never touched something so valuable.”

“Oh, really? Then…”

The man pulled something else from his other pocket.

“How about this silver coin? Could this be yours?”

“That’s not mine either,” answered Thomas, his voice full of regret.

“Wow, Miss. That newsboy is admirable. If we’d met someone like him last year, we wouldn’t have been scammed.”

Mamie, now a fascinated spectator, seemed to have changed her opinion. The whites of her eyes, which had grown wide in displeasure earlier, had visibly shrunk.

“In that case… this must be what you dropped.”

The man nodded and held out a coin. Thomas’s face lit up with joy, and he cheered.

“Yes! That copper coin is mine!”

“I see.”

With that brief reply, the man placed the copper coin into the boy’s palm.

“Take these, too.”

The gold and silver coins clinked as they were added.

“Huh? W-why? Why are you giving me these?”

“Because you told the truth. You deserve a reward for being an honest boy.”

The boy stared up at the man blankly, then snapped out of it and bowed repeatedly.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Be careful not to lose it this time. Keep the gold and silver coins safe from others.”

“I will. Thank you. Thank you.”

Penelope and Mamie held hands, watching this heartwarming ending to the story. Tears glimmered in Mamie’s eyes as she seemed ready to applaud the kindness of the man and the fortune that had come to the poor yet honest boy.

Meanwhile, the man turned away and walked off, leaving the boy still bowing. The damp breeze from the river ruffled his moonlit silver hair, carrying it far away.

Penelope smiled as she watched the dignified man pass in front of her. His gaze briefly met Mamie’s and hers before drifting away.

“But Miss, that man’s just a softie.”

“I don’t think he’s as soft as you say.”

“Handing out gold coins to strangers? That’s how people get tricked.”

“People like him aren’t that easy, Mamie.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he’s hard to figure out.”

That was Penelope’s impression of the man. Though he smiled gently, he could see through to the truth. His tone was soft, yet he wasn’t foolish. His demeanor was flexible, but his actions were decisive. If the boy had lied, he would have turned him away without hesitation.

As Penelope stood deep in thought, her eyes caught sight of something lying on the cobblestones. It was round and shiny, like the gold coin the man had given the boy.

She picked it up and left the alley. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she called out to the man’s retreating back.

“Excuse me… Hey!”

He turned around.