The bird of Manhatten

Chapter 1 - In which a girl appears

Mid-April 1894
The House of Refuge, Manhattan, New York City
Jacks P.O.V.

A bull comes in.

He drags a little, pale boy with him.
Wait...
It's a goil. A little goil around ten.
She doesn't look at me. She keeps her head down.

"Margaret.", Snyda says an' da goil winces, like he slapped her. "Come in, my dear. Come in and look at who I found for you."
Da goil looks up.
"I found your brother."

"What?!", da goil, Margaret apparently, an' I say unison.

"Yes.", Snyda continues. "You told me about him, didn't you?"

Margaret shakes her head an' her dark brown hair whirls trough da air.
"No.", she answers. "I told ya-"
"You.", Snyda interrupts her. "It's 'you', not ya."
"Yes, Mr. Snyda, I's sorry." She looks down, then continues: "I told YOU, dat da boys is like my brothers, an' he's none of 'em. Who is he?"

Snyda just grins.
It looks manic an' kinda scary. He shouldn't do it too often.
"Well, dear,", he says. "This young man here..." He points at me. "...is Francis Sullivan. Your real brother. Your real sibling."

"What?!", and once again we speak at da same time.

"Yes. Just look at you. You look exactly the same."

I look at da goil an' she looks at me.
We do look similar, dat I can't deny.
We have da same dark brown hair. A similar nose an' similar ears, dat's true, but... her eyes.
Dey seem ta change colour da whole time.
Sometimes dey is blue, then dey is green, then gray.
And... if she really is my sista... shouldn't I know her? I's at least two years older than her.

"We finally found out your name, Margaret.", Snyda brings me back from my thoughts. "It's Margaret Sullivan. Isn't that wonderful?"

From da look she gives him, I can tell, she doesn't find it dat wonderful. She looks confused an' scared from me ta Snyda and back ta me.

"Take her away now. And take him with you.", Snyda commands after a short while of silence.

The bull now also grabs my arm, drags us out of da room an' down da hallway ta another door.
He unlocks it, without letting us go, an' shoves us in.

We trip into a room full of dirty, skinny kids. Mostly boys.
Dey's sittin', layin' an' standin' around da small room.
Dey's wearin' rags.
Their dirty hair is tangled.
Their eyes is empty.

I's in shock, 'till someone takes my hand an' whispers: "Terrible, ain't it?"

It's Margaret, my so called sista. She looks up ta me and smiles slightly.
Then she leads me through da crowded room ta a corner an' sits down.
I do da same.

"So, tell 'bout ya.", she says givin' me an encouraging smile.
"What?"
"Tell me about how Francis Sullivan ended up in da Refuge."
"I, um, stole."
"Ya stole?"
"Yeah. I was hungry, so I stole some food."
"And dat's why ya here?", she sounds somehow disappointed.
"I think so."
"Well, dat's borin'. I thought ya did somethin' more... more execitin'."
"More execitin'? Like what?"
"Don't know. Like... ya stole... like some money or... or murdered someone."

For a second I jus' look at her in disbelieve. "Why da hell should I have murdered somebody?!"

"Don't know. Jus' thinkin'. Ya seem ta be da only one in here, dat ain't afraid of da spida."
"Da spida?"
"Yeah. Snyda da Spida."
"Interestin' nickname."
"But absolutely fittin'."

"So, how about ya? How did ya end up here?", I ask for a change.

"I stole food too. But it was da first time, dey caught me, ya know?" She sounds proud of herself. "Oh, an' it's Magpie, by da way. Magpie, not Margaret. Snyda made dat one up foa me. He thinks Magpie ain't a real name."

"Ya name's Magpie?", I ask confused.
"Yeah."
"Like da bird?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Why's ya name Francis?"
"Ya got me there."
"Well, actually there's a reason. Kinda. Da necklace."
"Which necklace?"
"Dat one.", she says an' opens da second button of her shirt. She fetches out a thin leather ribbon, on which end a black an' white feather is hangin'. A magpie feather.

"So, ya a thief with a magpie feather as a necklace?"

"Looks like it. But there's still a reason."
"An' dat is?"
"So, when Sammy found me-"
"Wait, wait. Who's Sammy?"
"Sammy's da boy, dat found me."
"Found ya?"
"Yes.", she says, smilin' as she remembers. "He found me as a tiny, little baby in a basket in an alley way."
"Ok... Go on. What's da other reason?"
"Um, when he found me, there was a magpie with me."
"There was a magpie with ya?", I ask raisin' an eyebrow.
"Yes. I named her Belle. I can feed her out of my hand."

A moment later a magpie lands on da window ledge above us. Da bird fits through da iron bars an' comes inside.
"Belle, I assume?", I ask as da bird lands on Magpie's knee.
"Yeah.", she smiles.

"How long have ya been here already?"
"Hm... Around two weeks or so. In fact, too long."