Author: Luna Turner PM
Broadway Song was utterly alone and poor for 11 years, out on the streets. That is, until she met Glen Lakewood by chance. Turns out collapsing on the sidewalk comes in handy after all. R&R please! Reviews will be returned!Rated: Fiction T - English - Friendship/Romance - Chapters: 3 - Words: 10,037 - Reviews: 10 - Follows: 2 - Updated: 07-18-09 - Published: 07-12-09 - id: 2696261
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
[[ Oneshot ]] Broadway Song
I could say I'm special- worth something. I could say my life is just as important as anyone else's, but I'm a realistic person, and that is not reality. I'm just another girl in a world that's too big for me, but at the same time too small. I wasn't destined for great things, I wasn't born into riches, and I'm certainly not beautiful. I have no family, and no friends. I'm alone, in every sense of the word- and I couldn't be more surrounded. You may call me contradictory; the things I say might be so. But you see, I am contradictory. Life is one big contradiction. It's the best word to describe it. So in reality, am I 'contradictory'? No, I'm not.
I'm not a philosopher, and I'm not a genius. I grew up in a house barely standing until I was 7. On my 7th birthday, I was dumped on the side of the road, a broken down car's tail lights fading into the distance, leaving me to fend for myself. In times like those, homeless children weren't rare at all. So what was I? I was just another poor kid, who no one took a second glance at. Just another starving girl on the side of the road. The life that I knew before the streets gave me no name. I was referred to as 'girl' or 'you'. So when a kind stranger asked me what my name was around my ninth year on the planet, I didn't know what to say. Of course I had heard of names, but what was the meaning behind them? What kind of significance would mine hold for me? After pondering the question in my mind for quite sometime, I answered the only 'name' that had ever meant anything to me. A name that I had seen in flashing lights for nine years. How I could read it, I never understood, but I knew it was the name for me. "Broadway," I answered timidly, startled at the sound of my own voice. I hadn't spoken to very many people since my life had started on the avenues of New York City.
"Broadway?" The woman asked, staring at me, her eyebrows hidden by a bright red hat, matching her lipstick. "And what about your family name?"
I assumed she was talking about last names. I didn't have a last name either. Then I thought of another word that meant very much to me. Of course, at the time I didn't have any idea how ridiculous my 'name' sounded, but it was perfect to me. I still go by the same name today. "Song."
"Broadway Song?" She muttered, a puzzled look crossing over her face. "Well Broadway, I can't take you home with me. There's too many children on the streets for that. But I will treat you to a meal. It looks like you haven't eaten in weeks."
I had no calculation of days, weeks, or months, but the way I figured, I hadn't eaten in weeks. That is, nothing more than scraps. I was too shocked to say anything like 'thank you'. The woman took me by the hand and we walked along the busy sidewalk, her slender figure decorated by a brown short sleeved dress overshadowing me, her hips swaying as we dodged the traffic of two legged vehicles. A small restaurant tucked into a little corner that looked somewhat like a café came into my vision. We entered and the woman paid for a full meal for me and also for another meal that I could eat later that night. After we ate, she patted my head and told me to be careful, leaving me in the smog of New York City, never even glancing behind her as she walked away.
I hung on to that memory my whole life, refusing to believe that no one cared. Since then, a few people stopped to ask if I needed a ride somewhere. I always refused, smelling the strong scent of drugs wafting from the car. Besides, where would a homeless girl go, to a shelter? The shelters were packed enough. People were more needy than I was. I just happened to be skilled at finding leftovers people threw away. It's shocking, that once dumpster diving becomes a way of survival, you realize how wasteful we really are. I came out from under an overhang of a restaurant that my friend worked at. I had spent the night there, due to an unexpected downpour the proceeding night. My friend Ben had always shown such kindness to me. He barely had two dimes to rub together, but if he had any extra money, he would always buy me food, or sneak scraps out the back for me. I walked along the sidewalks that had become so familiar to me, the busy lives of New Yorkers screaming into my ear drums, horns blaring, music pumping out of cheap speakers, and so forth. I passed a murky puddle of rain water and peered into it, making my reflection out of the dirty mess. My hair was pulled back into a pony tail as always, and my face was smeared with so much dirt, I couldn't tell if I was really that tan or not. I wore a pair of jeans and a leather beige overcoat that I had found outside someone's house, waiting to be picked up by some organization. It wasn't like me to steal, but at the time I had desperately needed clothes.
My whole attire had more holes than I could count, but I was grateful. My red hair that once had been so pretty, or so I had thought, was now soiled and far from remotely attractive. I had once had shining silver eyes, which now had been reduced to a dull gray, losing the depth they once held. I turned away from my reflection, not wanting to see the damage life had done to me. My stomach twisted and turned in ways that made me bend over, nearly collapsing. I clutched onto a convenient fire hydrant and waited for the pain to pass. It became more intense, spreading through my whole body. I gasped and wrapped my arms around my torso, my face contorted in pain. Black dots clouded my vision, and the world spun for a second. I struggled to keep myself up, but my efforts were in vain and my legs crumpled beneath me. The last thing I saw was a yellow taxi cab stopping around the corner and a man stepping out before everything went black.
I admit I hadn't seen her before I tripped over her limp body sprawled across the ground. Her skin was unbelievably dirty but I could tell underneath the layer of soil, she was rather pale. I called my friend over to help her up. "Warren, come here." He ran over to my side and we lifted her off the ground. I felt her pulse. It was beating slowly, she was just unconscious. The girl was unhealthily thin and she had a small frame with petite facial features. "We need to get her to a hospital," I told Warren, and we called over a taxi, and I cradled the woman in my arms as I got into the taxi, Warren right behind me.
The driver turned around, with a hesitant expression. "Uh, where to sir?"
"Lenox Hill Hospital, please. As soon as possible," I told him.
He nodded and sped away from the curb and toward the hospital. Warren studied my face carefully. "Glen, do you know her?"
"I've never seen her in my life." I replied, in turn looking to the woman in my arms. Her red hair was filthy as well, but I could tell it was beautiful beneath the dirt. "She's rather pretty, don't you think?"
Warren nodded. "I thought perhaps she was a model at first. But then the dirt and raggedy clothes gave her away as we got closer."
Soon we pulled into the hospital parking lot, a large, overly expensive fountain crowding the front. I threw few dollar bills at the driver and thanked him briefly, running into the hospital. A short and stout black nurse came up to me. Without asking me anything she called two more doctors over and they carried her into another room and laid her on a bed, hooking up and IV to her and a bunch of other medical crap like you wouldn't believe. The nurse who I had seen in the front approached me again. "Sir, what happened exactly?"
I told her how I had just stepped out of my cab and was walking towards a café, when I had tripped over the woman. I did not know her name, or anything else about her because I had found her unconscious. Another nurse came to the one who had addressed me. "Dr. Mills, the patient is suffering from malnutrition and severe dehydration. I suggest the first thing we need to do is get some fluids in her." Dr. Mills agreed and sent the nurse away. She turned back to me.
"You need to stay here until she wakes up, and find out who the heck she is." With that, the doctor left before I could protest.
I sighed and turned to warren, his bald head shining underneath the fluorescent lights. "Well Warren, you'll have to go to that meeting for me and tell them a situation arose. I can't make it today."
"But Glen, this is mandatory. You missed last month's too."
"Send my deepest regrets." I looked over to the girl, lying across the hospital bed. "I have to stay here with her. Can you imagine what it'll be like when she wakes up?"
Warren shrugged and walked out of the hospital. I watched him call a cab, and get in with his fancy business suit and my briefcase. I walked over to the woman I had brought here and pulled a chair away from the wall. I watched her heart monitor, it's rhythmic beeps sounding through the air. The hospital was relatively quiet, thankfully. I had a migraine that had been wreaking havoc in my head since 6 this morning. I looked at my watch. 10:46 a.m., it read. Her fingers twitched slightly, and her eyelids fluttered. I found it hard to believe that she was awake already. I looked upward at the ceiling, and rubbed my forehead. I can't believe I skipped out on another meeting, I thought to myself. The Board's going to kill me.
I turned my eyes back to the woman and she was staring back at me. She had the most luminous eyes I had ever seen. They almost looked… platinum, with icy blue lines cutting patterns through the silver color. "Hi," I said, putting a hand behind my head, and smiling slightly.
"Hi…?" She said back, her voice low for a woman, but beautiful at the same time. "What am I doing here?" She asked, looking around in confusion.
I grabbed her hand instinctively, to keep her calm. "You passed out on the sidewalk. I was just getting out of my taxi cab and I took you here, to get you help."
She looked around more for awhile, not saying anything, then glanced back at me. "That's right. I remember seeing you before I fell."
I nodded. She saw our hands and then pulled away, confusion still plastered on her face. "I'm sorry, I don't remember ever actually meeting you."
"Don't worry," I smiled. "We never officially met." I held out my hand for her to shake. "I'm Glen Lakewood." She shook my hand.
"Come again?" I asked her, thinking I couldn't have possibly heard her right.
"Broadway Song," She repeated. I had heard right. I didn't know what to say back to that. It was such a peculiar name. I had never heard anyone name their child 'Broadway'. "Thank you for helping me," she said.
"It was no problem at all. Broadway, if you don't mind me asking, where do you live? I can take you home when the hospital is ready to release you. But, it probably won't be for a week at the least."
Broadway blinked a couple times, as if I'd just spoken in a language she'd never heard before. "I don't have a home." She said simply.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't live anywhere. I've been homeless since I was 7."
My heart pounded with sympathy for someone so beautiful having to suffer for all these years. "How old are you?"
"I'm 18 years old as of yesterday." She said. "Look, I appreciate your help, but you don't need to worry about me. I'm fine on my own."
"Obviously not." I retorted. "If you were fine, you wouldn't have collapsed on the sidewalk. You wouldn't be so thin."
"I do a lot of walking." She snapped. "It's none of your business if I'm fine or not anyways."
"Look Broadway, I was on my way to a business meeting. It was by mere chance that I literally stumbled upon you. Now, I took it out of the goodness of my heart to take you to a hospital and get you help. Can you at least let me finish what I started?"
She glared at me for awhile, her arms crossed. "Fine."
Dr. Mills approached us with a wide smile on her face. "You're awake!" She exclaimed. "You're lucky this man was there when he was. It could've been bad. We're going to get you some food. But first, what's your name?"
Broadway sighed in defeat. "Broadway Song."
"Excuse me?" Dr. Mills asked, in the same incredulous tone I had.
"Well Miss Song…. I hope you're feeling better but we're going to have to keep an eye on you for a few days. You can take a shower tomorrow if you like." Dr. Mills suggested as she walked away.
I turned to Broadway again, entranced by her eyes. "I have to go. I'm going to try and make it to my meeting if I can. I'll be back later though, I promise."
"… Thanks again." She murmured as I walked away and out the hospital doors to try and race to that meeting.
My head swam in confusion. All of a sudden someone cared? It hadn't been the first time I had collapsed on the sidewalk, but why was this time different? I guess because Glen was there. I admit, he was handsome. I mean, if anyone was going to intervene I was glad it was him. He was tall, with sharp facial features and curly hair that clung to his ears, but wasn't too long. I was still thinking of his warm chocolate brown eyes bearing into me as I woke up. I fidgeted slightly in my bed, the IV in my arm bugging the crap out of me.
I had just met Glen but he was so nice. He didn't even know me, but yet he stopped to help me. He didn't know me, but yet he missed an important meeting to stay with me, not knowing when I would wake up, or even if I ever would. I had waited my whole life for that kind of compassion, and never thought I'd get it from a complete stranger. Especially someone like Glen. I sat in my bed smiling, at ease knowing that I was right. There really were people who cared.