So what's yer name, kid? Real name, I mean--first an' last. I gotta keep accurate records or the city gets on me back, but I ain't gonna share 'em wit no one.

Oh, it’s, um… Gabriel Ignacio Casales. Like, uh…. The angel. Mama’s religious…

Ya gots a nickname? How'd ya get it?

Itey. I say it’s cause I was real short and skinny when I got here. But hell if I know, Snitch started callin’ me that one day and it stuck. Least it’s better than Gabriel.

Know how old ya are? When's yer birthday? The boys all likes to chip in an' make ya feel special. By which I mean, they likes any excuse for a party.

I’m fourteen. My birthday’s August 18th.

Now describe yer appearance for me. Try an' be detailed. My mem'ry ain't what it useta be, an' if I hears about a vicious killer on the loose, I wanna be able to check my records an' make the connection.

Well, I’m a bit on the short side. I’m real skinny and scrawny… I got black hair, it’s kinda curly. Dark brown eyes. My skin’s pretty tan, cause I’m Mexican. I got thick eyebrows. My clothes are always too big for me. That good enough?

Got any odder job 'sides sellin' papes? Legal or illegal, I ain't gonna squeal on ya.

Nah, just sellin’ papes. Mama would kill me if I was doin’ anything illegal.

All right, time for the big one. What kinda person are ya, kid? How d'you treat odders? How d'you treat yerself? We gets all kinds here, so be honest--I just wanna know what to expect.

I’m kinda shy, I don’t talk too much. I’m a real good listener. I guess I’m kinda sweet? I’m always real nice and polite, that’s how Mama raised me. And I always laugh at all the fellas’ jokes. I like bein’ cheerful, so I guess I’m a pretty good friend to have. I’m nothin’ special, though. I don’t do nothin’ the other fellas wouldn’t do for me. I will say that I don’ like people who tease me about my way of talkin’. I know, it’s weird. I grew up speaking Spanish at home with my family, then playin’ with all the Irish kids in our neighborhood and goin’ to school with the nuns. Then I came down here and I know I talk funny, but that don’t mean nobody got to mention it, okay? –mutters under his breath- My Spanish is normal, why can’t I talk in Spanish….

Got any hobbies? Whaddaya do wit yer spare time?

I read a bit. I’m tryin’ to read the whole Bible, only cause it’d make Mama happy. But I like readin’ those cheap novels, the ones all about adventure and such. Don’t tell Mama, okay? She thinks they’re trash and I’ll go to Hell for readin’ ‘em. I also play card with the other fellas, but Race always wins and I don’t really like losin’ money.

How 'bout vices or bad habits? Smokin', drinkin', gamblin'? I want 'cha to promise to keep 'em outside the house.

I gamble a bit. Not much, though. I can’t lose too much money or Mama’ll start askin’ questions. I don’t really smoke or drink, they cost money and I’ve gotta give most of my earnings to Mama. Besides, I’ll probably go to Hell if I do anythin’ else Mama won’t approve of.

Got any fam'ly or friends 'round here? Or enemies, for that matter? Tell me who ya knows in the area.

Yeah, I’ve got my mama and papa and all six of my little brothers and sisters. They live over in Hell’s Kitchen, so I gotta hike all the way up there every Sunday to go to Mass with them. If I don’t, Mama’ll come marchin’ down here and trust me, no one wants that. –grins- But I love ‘em, I give ‘em all the extra money I get from sellin’ papes. As for friends, well, all the fellas here are my friends. I guess I might be closest to Snitch, but I like all the fellas. No real enemies, I’m a nice enough guy. I don’t usually get on anyone’s wrong side. Well, uh, some of the newsies in Hell’s Kitchen don’ like me much…. –shrugs- But they ain’t round here, are they?

An' maybe a special someone? I got a special set o' rules when it comes to that sorta t'ing.

Nah, I’m too young for girls. Sides, Mama wants me to marry a nice Hispanic, Catholic girl someday. There aren’t many of those ‘round here.

Fin'ly, every boy's favorite question... *chuckles darkly* What can ya tell me 'bout yer past? Where'd ya grow up, what brought ya here, an' what happened in between?

Well, my mama and papa came to New York from Mexico before I was born. Papa works in a factory makin’ cloth and Mama’s a seamstress. They moved into an apartment in Hell’s Kitchen, they’ve been livin’ there ever since. Mama hates living there, says the name is temptin’ fate. –laughs- But there’s a real nice Catholic Church there, Saint Thomas’, so she’s happy. Anyway, they had me and all my little brothers and sisters. I’d tell ya their names and how old they are, but you don’t care, do ya Kloppman? –shrugs, grinning- So there’s me, Mama, Papa, and the six little kids in that one apartment. We, well, me and Papa, actually, decided when I was ten that I probably should move out, find a job, and make some extra space in the apartment. So I came down here, started sellin’ papes, and moved into the lodging house. I would’ve stayed closer to Mama and Papa, but I, uh, kinda got on the bad side of some of the newsies round there, cause they were bein’ mean to my little sister and I got angry. So it’s better for everyone that I came down here.

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Profile By: Peep Shakespeare

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