The Hands I Love

By Blaze

The lamp is burnin' low upon my table top

The snow is softly fallin'

The air is still within the silence of my room

I hear your voice softly callin'

"Bumlets, it's so cold! We'll freeze out here."

"We'll only be out here for a minute, please?"

The words flowed through my mind like it had just happened yesterday. I sat by a window in the girls' bunkroom, curled up in a ragged brown chair. The only blanket I had was draped around my shivering body, protecting me from the poorly insulated room as best it could. My vacant blue eyes were fixated on the light snowfall outside. I watched it so intently, like it was the only thing left keeping me sane. I needed the snow to keep falling that night, or surely I would be driven crazy in that bunkroom. Each passing snowflake was another beacon of hope; if the snow kept falling, he would really come home, like his letters promised.

Christmas Eve was finally here. It felt like eons since the last one. Perhaps it was because the year seemed so empty for me, and because I had waited for this day all year long.

Downstairs the Newsies were trying to keep their good spirits in tact. Despite the fact one of their own wasn't here to enjoy the festivities, they all were determined to keep him in their thoughts as they ate a small Christmas dinner. I didn't want to go down there. It wasn't that my stomach was full, for it was aching to eat soon, but I knew I wouldn't be able to stand their eyes on me. It was my boyfriend that was missing from the lodging house this past year, and I knew if I traveled down those steps, they would hover around me in an attempt to cheer up my dim mood. I wanted to be alone. I wanted nothing more than to be alone with my own visions of him walking in that door soon.

If I could only have you near

To breathe a sigh or two

I would be happy just to hold the hands I love

Upon this winter night with you

"Bumlets, where are we going?" I asked, whining in an effort to have him divulge his plans earlier that he planned to. He looked so anxious to show me something. I wished I knew what it was. He was always surprising me, and I was always impatiently nagging him to hurry up. I think that was one of the reasons he did it so often.

"Ya know I can't tell ya dat," he grinned triumphantly. "Only a little bit further." He gripped my hand tighter, something that always made me smile, despite anything that was going on around me. His touch always brightened my mood and made me feel safe. He knew he had this affect, for sometimes I'd catch him with his chest puffed out while walking with me.

It was that night I lost him to the refuge.

"Bumlets, let's just go, please? It's not worth it. It's Christmas Eve… Let's go back home…" My words fell on deaf ears.

Two off-duty police officers had wandered by us. They were obviously drunk, not to mention rowdy, and they had made some harsh comments to me in particular. We didn't know they were cops. We thought they were just drunks out to have some fun. It turned out that our assumption cost us in the end.

"Yeah, why don't you listen to the little bitch. She knows what she's talking about," one ranted.

"Oh, but before ya go, ya mind givin' us some little girly? Your boy here can watch," the other one snickered.

I gripped to his hands, feeling them shake in anger. "Bumlets, come on. Let's go," I pleaded, but he shook his head.

"It's okay, Blaze. They're not gonna do anything," he told me, glaring at the two.

"Little boy here thinks he could take us," the first laughed.

"Hey kid, why don't ya fight us, then once we win, we'll have your girl as our prize," the second grinned, as he staggered towards us.

By that time, Bumlets had motioned for me to step aside. I knew what he was thinking. If he didn't teach these two now, then sometime when I was walking alone later, I could be a target.

While one man circled Bumlets, his fists raised, the other decided to enjoy his winnings early, and advanced towards me. I didn't see him until his hands were over my mouth, for I had been watching Bumlets fight the other drunkard.

I screamed into his palm, my eyes wide with fear. His free arm snaked around my waist and he started to pull me into the alleyway. I cringed at the smell of alcohol that reeked from his entire being. I started to kick and flail my arms, hoping that the amount of alcohol in his system would help me break free, but his grip tightened, and as the shadows of the alley drew nearer, I felt his hand wander over my chest.

Angry that I couldn't stop him, I bit down on his hand, hard. The yell that bellowed from his throat was enough to make Bumlets turn. He shouted angrily at the man who still had me at his mercy, but the man merely snickered.

Bumlets managed to punch his assailant square in the chin, sending him stumbling backwards, and finally, to the cobblestones. He raced towards the alley, shouting for the male to leave me alone, but as he came closer, whistles sounded, and several uniformed officers showed up on the scene.

The rest of the night seemed like such a blur to me. Since the men were cops, they were spared, and only Bumlets was taken into custody, since they were eager to get another 'street rat' in the refuge. I went to his trial two days later with Lady Luck and heard one lie after another. I spoke up, despite the annoyed look on the judge's face, pleading with him to listen to what really happened.

I'm certain he was partially listening, for Bumlets was given the sentence of only a year in the refuge, but it was made quite clear that this could change. I tried so hard not to cry that day. I wanted to be strong for him, but when they wouldn't let me even say goodbye properly, I broke down. They dragged him away as I sobbed, but as he left the room, I made sure to flip off the men who had started this mess. I stormed out of the courthouse, determined to keep my head up until I was out of their view. Once outside, I broke into sobs once more, and if it weren't for Lady Luck, I wouldn't have made it back to the lodging house that day.

The smoke is rising in the shadows overhead

My glass is almost empty

I read again between the lines upon the page

The words of love you sent me

Blaze, I'm coming home, just like the judge promised. He said I'd be home by Christmas Eve! I miss ya so much and I think about you all the time. The boys here say I talk about my girl and the Newsies too much, but I don't let them bother me. How is everyone? Given Klopp hell lately? Do you know how odd it is to not have yer hat stolen in months? I'll be home soon. I love you.

I clutched to his last letter in my shaky, frigid hands. His handwriting had improved so much over the months and he'd always write me saying how that was at least a good thing that came out of all this. Peering through the small box on my lap, I re-read every single letter he had sent me.

His letters always made me smile. Bumlets was able to write one to me every month, and always had too much to tell me. The sentences were always so jumbled and stuffed with a million thoughts, all scattered throughout several sentences. I always had to read them over several times before I understood what he meant.

Reaching over, I took one more sip of my glass of water, the liquid soothing my tired throat. Outside I could see the rows of chimneys, each spouting out smoke over the city sky. It made me think of the refuge, and how cold Bumlets had told me it was sometimes. They have these great furnaces here, but I think they forget that they don't work without wood or coal, he wrote me once.

If I could know within my heart

That you were lonely too

I would be happy just to hold the hands I love

Upon this winter night with you

"Blaze, get some sleep, hon," Lady Luck whispered, her expression filled with concern.

I was certain she could see how I struggled to keep my eyes open, but I shook my head at her words. I needed to stay up. He was coming home and I wanted to be awake to see him.

Reluctantly, Lady Luck left my side in favor of her bunk. It was useless to try and get me to sleep. I was too stubborn to agree with her. It didn't matter to me that my body was screaming at me for rest, or that my eyelids were growing heavier by the second. I refused to sleep until I was in his arms again.

Sometimes I wondered if he really did think about me as much as he stated in his letters. We had been apart for a year now, and at times I was scared that he would be different when he came home, or that I wouldn't be the same to him.

I wanted nothing more than for him to hold my hands again - to feel that safe again.

The fire is dying now, my lamp is growing dim

The shades of night are liftin'

The mornin' light steals across my window pane

Where webs of snow are driftin'

Outside, I could see the sun rising behind the buildings. The snowfall had since stopped, and my hope was wearing thin. The Newsies would have Christmas Day off, and I knew they would awaken soon, only to filter downstairs to see what Santa left them. True, hardly any of us had enough money for presents, but Kloppman always made sure the younger ones received something from one of the city's donation societies, and our job as the eldest was to marvel at what 'Santa' had brought them.

I shivered again, feeling the warmth leaving the room, and taking any heat from my body with it. Kloppman only had enough wood for the fire to last just before daylight, and it was at this time I felt my body shake violently from the cold.

The sun gleamed through the window, the snow covering the city aiding to empower its rays. I lowered my head to rest my eyes from the sun's strength, and fought to keep myself from drifting to sleep.

If I could only have you near

To breathe a sigh or two

I would be happy just to hold the hands I love

And to be once again with you

To be once again with you

I couldn't stand to have the girls wake up and see me still huddled by the window. Peeling myself slowly from the old chair, I wrapped my blanket around me before picking up the empty glass from the table. As quietly as I could muster, I crept out of the bunkroom and down the squeaky stairs, my eyes shutting at each step, as if to will the stairs to be silent beneath me.

I kept my eyes firmly focused on the ground, for surely if they wandered I would trip over something, and wake up everyone in the process. My first stop was the kitchen, where I deposited the glass in the sink. I made the mistake of leaning against the counter top for a brief moment, and my exhausted body begged for me to lounge there a little longer so it could recuperate, but it finally relented, and I continued on my way.

I decided to take solace on the couch and smiled sleepily at the small tree in the corner on my way into the lobby. Jack had 'borrowed' the tree from the yard of a rich family a few blocks away, and with the help of Specs, Dutchy, and Pie Eater, they had lugged it back to the lodging house.

My eyes marveled at the tree, decorated in only a few ornaments and some old tinsel. Most of the ornaments had been made out of paper by the smaller lodgers, but Kloppman had told us that it made our tree special, and that thought brought a smile to the faces of the younger ones. They liked being able to contribute, and would often sit by the tree at night, staring at it in wonder until Kloppman finally ushered them to bed.

Wavering from the tree to the ground, my eyes focused their efforts on getting me to the couch safely. My muscles demanded rest, but still I wanted to stay awake. My feet staggered to reach the couch, but my stubborn mind kept them going, and soon I was able to plant a hand on the edge of the ratty piece of furniture to steady myself. As I tried to bend my aching muscles to sit, my body froze. I couldn't move. At first I felt like I would be destined to stay frozen in that standing position forever, but then as the tears brimmed from my eyes, my knees started to go weak beneath me.

He must have seen that I was about to fall, for he stood up from the couch quickly, and took my hands with his own, his efforts aiding to steady me.

I couldn't say anything. I had waited for this day for a year and planned out what I would say to him, and how I would act, but my brain was numb. All I could do was relish the feeling of his hands in mine. He squeezed them gently, and I felt as if he was bringing the life back into my bones.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," he smiled. His cheeks were rosy from the cold outside, and his hair was shorter than when he had left, but I assumed that was the doing of the refuge and its regulations. His hat was fastened to the side of his pants and momentarily a small smile crept across my lips. I had purposely unhooked that long before he left, since it inhibited my ability to take off with that hat of his.

I had to be dreaming. He couldn't really be here. It was too good to be true. I figured Bumlets could tell I was uncertain of his actual presence, for he pulled my hands to his lips, kissing them softly. The idea of him being here with me started to flood through my veins, and tears spilled from my eyes.

My throat was so dry and I silently cursed at it. There were so many things I wanted to tell him now; how I missed him each day, how the Newsies had given me so much support, how I was sorry this had happened, and how much I loved him. I couldn't even muster a whisper. Tears were the only way of communicating my thoughts to him.

Bumlets took me into his arms as I was about to fall over and pulled me into his lap as he sat down. He gasped as I threw my arms around his neck, surely suffocating him in the process. Finally I pulled back and smiled at him, the tears still flowing from my eyes.

On closer inspection I could see how tired Bumlets was; his eyes were red and there were evident rings underneath them. He must have stayed up all night, awaiting his release from that horrid institution. I opened my mouth to ask him a thousand questions all at once, but he lifted a finger to my lips, silencing me with a smile on his face.

Stubborn one that I was, I went to speak again, but he pulled me near, kissing me deeply before I was able to utter any words. I kissed him with every last ounce of strength I possessed, my arms clinging to him, hoping I never had to let go again.

When we broke, my head fell to his shoulder as I nestled my face into the side of his neck. I swallowed hard, urging my throat to let me finally speak. "I missed you so much," came barely a whisper from the depths of my being. I felt his arms tighten around me as he rested his cheek atop my head.

"I missed you too."

I wanted to stay awake then and hear all about his days in the refuge and his journey home. I wanted to tell him what had happened at the lodging house in his absence, and who the new lodgers were, but I was so tired from waiting for him that I found my eyelids closing.

His hand stroking through the waves in my hair, I felt myself drifting further from consciousness, and fought off sleep as best I could. I tried to lift my head and warn him that I wouldn't be awake much longer, and saw him smile at me before he gently kissed my forehead.

"I love you," he whispered and started to reposition us on the couch. Bumlets laid me down beside him, our bodies huddled together on the small rickety furniture. I rested my head against his chest and smiled as I felt his strong arms slide around me. Before I closed my eyes once more, I gripped to his hand, feeling that spark that happened whenever his hands were holding mine.

"Love you too," I whispered back, my throat allowing that one final comment to be expressed.

It was then that I started to sail towards a peaceful sleep, the rhythm of his calm breathing aiding in my departure from cognizance. I had Bumlets near me again, and I was determined to never let him go.

The End

Lyrics by Gordon Lightfoot.

Version I wrote to sung by Sarah McLachlan