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Stow away By Chris Wager        Chapter One “Benjamin Michael Holt Hurry up, you’ll be late for school”, his mother calls out.Ben pushes himself if out of bed pulls on his best worn shirt.  His brown trousers with added ventilation in the knee.  Over his small frame and treks down the hallway toward his, mother who is humming a cheerful tune to herself. Car horns from the street below invade the small third story apartment through an open window where Ben and his mother live in the Lower east side of Manhattan.“Good morn’in ma,” Ben said as he enters the dingy kitchen while pulling up his suspenders. The smell of toast and eggs cooking quickens Ben’s steps to the table. “I have to work to 5:30 today, Ben, so you come strait home”, his mother tells him as she sets a steamy plate of eggs in front of him.Ben mumbles, “but ma, it’s Saturday” through a mouth full of scrabbled eggs.  “Oh my lord you’re right, well than I’ll be home early and we can have a nice dinner together,” she says smiling. Ben finishes his eggs and the last drink of milk from the bottle. Gets up from his chair and goes to the sink where he runs his semi-toothless comb through his short dark hair.  Ben reads the calendar hanging on a nail over the sink while he tries to find his part  Aug 2, 1937. “One, two, three, four”, Ben counts off the days.“What?” his mother asks“Oh noth’n ma,”“Wash that face too,” his mother orders“You’re not leaving this house look’en like a vagabond.”As his mother begins to clear the table Ben grabs the last piece of toast off his plate on his way to the door. That leads to the even dingier hallway of their apartment building.“Where are you going in such a hurry?”“I heard they’re hiring boys to sell peanuts at the Yankee’s games on the weekend ,” Ben said “, what do you think ma, could I?” Ben’s mother looks at him her blue eyes partly obscured by gray hair that has fallen from her bun and gives him a warm smile.    “ Land sacks Ben there’s no need for such a young boy to be worrying about working. We’ll be alright, it’ll get better”.Ben, a bite embarrassed by his mother’s comment is made to feel his young age. Being the honorary man of the house since his father past away. He didn’t like being reminded that he has yet to fill his father’s shoes. Ben often tries to act older. His mother pushes up his chine and fusses over his shirt collar, “there that’s better”.“I know ma, but it’s O.k.  I don’t mind.” Ben kisses his mother on her round rosy cheek and shuffles out into the hallway and down the rickety staircase. “You stay way from the docks you hear me, that’s no place for a young respectable boy to be found mess’ in around.”“I will ma.”Ben bursts through the double doors of his building leaps to the sidewalk. People of every variety, shape, and size race to and fro like cars on a busy freeway. “Hey watch it,” a man snarls when Ben collides with him in mid air of his jump nearly knocking the man off his feet. Ben picks up the man’s dented bowler hat and hands it back , “Sorry sir”.The man with his face red as a beat snatches it from Ben with a huff and grumbles down the sidewalk. Ben Shrugs his shoulders and continues on his way when he stumbles into another person. A small women wearing an over sized white and black  hat. Which is now  sits sideways on her head. And carrying a tiny white dog. “Sorry”, Ben shouts again over the ill tempered  dog that bounces like a fluffy white rubber ball in the women’s arms . The women struggle to keep the dog from fully attacking Ben.             Ben sticks his hands in his pockets smiles and turns into  the wave of people  that carry him like a river current to the end of his  block. Up ahead a reluctant horse pulling a milk wagon decides he favors a portion of the congested sidewalk to the of honking motorists sandwiched of the street. Which Sends panicking pedestrians running for their lives. “Gees that was close”, Ben comments as he  turns the nearest corner. To avoid delay by the strange scene unfolding in front of him. To find himself at one of the cities many fruit markets.    Rows of fruit carts line the cobblestone streets that lead to the waterfront. Ben likes the market , the sight of all the mouth watering food . The sounds of people auguring over price in Italian. The smells of the bananas and fresh pineapple.  He and his mother come here once a week and Ben has a wonderful time watching is mother win the  argument with the merchants over the prices of the apples and oranges. Ben strolls along the rows of fruit his nose takes in all the sweet smells . The aroma tempts his appetite. When he spots a freckled face boy from school named Henry Arnold leaning against one of the stands. He and Ben hadn’t always been best of friends, but Henry would do as a first baseman in a good game of stickball. Which Ben is happy to play if he can round up enough pals after his trip to the stadium.“Henry,” Ben shouts waving his arms. Henry gives Ben a quick glance and turns away . “Heenry,” Ben yells. Just before Ben is able to reach him, Henry darts down the packed street. Out of breathe and puzzled by Henry’s behavior Ben slows to a walk. “Help police,” a short fat man wearing a black handlebar mustache and dirty apron cries out.“Stop him I’ve been robbed.”From somewhere in the depths of the crowd a sharply dressed policeman appeared. Benjamin watches the policeman make his way to the little man who is now jumping up and down.“Alright, alright what’s the hubbub bud?” The police officer asks attempting to be funny. The little man scowls at the police officer before he tells him how a young boy hanging around cart grabbed some fruit and ran off.The policeman removes his cap and scratches his head , “ well pop what did this boy look like?”“I don’t know he’s short with dark hair and … Over there”,   the old man’s eyes widen at the sight of Ben.“That’s him over there.”Ben Overhearing the load exchange turns to see whom the old man is referring to. The police officer startles Ben when he starts, running and blowing his whistle and pointing at him all at the same time.It took Benjamin a second to relies that the policeman is after him. Without thinking Ben jumps over a stack of crates . Dives under a cart and out the other side. The policeman hot on his heels.Ben rounds a corner of a building on one foot and down the long ally littered with trash. “Stop in the name of the law!” the policeman orders. Ben knows better than to trust the cops and continues to run, he splashes along the ally that leads him to the waterfront.Ma ‘s not going to like this, Ben thinks to himself.He pauses for a moment against an old stake of fish baskets to catch his breath. Wiping sweat forehead with his sleeve. Ben pecks  around the baskets to see if the policeman is still on his heals. Ben Takes a deep breath with a long sigh of relief and closes his eyes.  “Now I got ya , you little thief.” Ben Struggles to free himself from the police officer clutches.In his desperation, Ben kicks the police officer.“Why you little….”(Ripe) Ben’s worn collar rips from the policeman’s grip. Ben runs up the wet and slippery dock, hearing the pounding footsteps of the policeman behind him. Ben dodges back and fort between  rows  crates that line the dock , when He Spots a tarp  and dashes for cover.He stands like a statue, as he  watches the black shinny shoes of the policeman pace back and forth in front of him from a gap in the tarp. Sweat trickles down his face. The musty smell of the tarp isn’t agreeing with his eggs from breakfast, Ben talks himself out of getting sick.“That’s the last one take it up,” a man shouts  on the dock.“Take it up?” Ben wonders, “take what up?” In the minute Ben takes to ponder if he should stay or run. There’s a jolt, the pallet Ben is on begins to rise into the air. Ben latches onto the crates to stop him self from falling. . All he could do is watch through the small opening in the bottom of the tarp. As the dock move away Ben ‘s muscles contract against the sway of pallet.