Chapter 1:
Prologue
AN: Hey, everybody! I'm downtonabbey15, and this is my first fanfic on the site! I hope you guys like it! I'm a huge "Newsies" fan, so I thought I'd give this a shot! Please review!
-downtonabbey15
Winter was always a rough time for the newsies. While families sat cozily in their houses, laughing by the fire, the poor boys of New York trudged through snow, ice, and the cold winds, desperately trying to earn a living. And of course, there was the ever present threat of sickness.
Influenza and the boys met up every year, though they did not have a good relationship. Every winter, a few newsies, mainly the younger ones, would catch the flu. It would take a powerful grip on them, and because of that, the whole group struggled, having to spare older newsies as doctors to the ailing. That meant that there were less papers being sold, and that meant there was less money. And where there was less money, there was less food.
The strains of influenza had not been terribly bad the last few years, but that only meant that something worse was to come.
17 year old Jack Kelly sighed as he tugged his thin jacket around himself. He was hurriedly walking home to the lodging house, eager to get out of the cold weather. The papers had called for more snow tonight, and Jack cursed himself for not taking them seriously. He had instead gone to dinner at David's, paying no attention to the gathering storm outside the window. But when he stepped out onto the fire escape, he was slammed in the face by a rush of snow and wind. Politely declining Mrs. Jacobs' many offers to stay the night, Jack reluctantly set out for the old wooden building.
When he finally reached it, (silently thanking God that Kloppman hadn't locked it; he would've hated having to crawl through the upstairs window, as the last time he tried, he plummeted two stories and nearly killed himself,) he thrust the door open, stepped inside, and closed it behind him, expecting to be welcomed by the chorus of boys yelling his name, the curses as someone lost a poker game, and the strong smell of cigarettes. Instead, the foyer was dark and quiet.
Jack took a step forward, glancing in the small living area to the right of the stairs. The room was empty, save for Racetrack, who was sitting on the torn up old armchair that rested by the unlit fireplace, absent mindedly letting his poker cards flutter between his hands. A single oil lamp was lit on the end table beside him.
"Hey, Jack," Racetrack said quietly, not moving from his slouched position.
"Race," Jack acknowledged. "Where're da others?"
"Went to bed," the 16 year old informed him. He rose, ceasing the card shuffling and hiding the deck safely in his inside vest pocket. He strode over to Jack, hands in his pockets. "Kloppman too."
Jack headed into the kitchen to get a glass of water, and Racetrack followed.
"How's Skittery?" Jack asked, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it at the sink.
Two days prior, Skittery had been the one to start the avalanche, coming back from Tibby's with a full-fledged fever. He hadn't been horribly sick, but it was enough to make Jack more than uneasy.
Race shrugged. "No worse. No better, either."
Jack took a swig of his water.
"Buttons and Drawers are sick, too," Racetrack added quietly.
Jack turned to him. "What? They...they was fine this mornin'."
"Well, they'se laid up, now. And Boots didn't look too hot either."
Jack stayed silent.
"You know, Jack," Race said, striking a match on the countertop and lighting the cigar that was now clenched between his teeth. "I don't want to worry youse, but...I'se getting a little nervous. I mean, I ain't ever seen da little ones come down with it dis fast, and us older kids...we never get sick."
Jack shrugged. "Crutchie gets sick, and he's da same age as you."
Racetrack shrugged. "Yeah, but Crutchie don't exactly have an iron immune system, either."
For a moment, both boys were silent.
"So, what'd we do?" Race asked quietly.
Jack shrugged. "What're we supposed to do Race? We ain't got no money for doctors. And even if we did, no doc'd come up here." Seeing his friend's expression, he sighed.
Setting down his water glass, Jack made his way towards the staircase that led to the bunkroom. "We do what we'se always do. We wait it out." With that, Jack ascended the rest of the stairs and disappeared onto the second floor.
Racetrack removed his cigar from his mouth and sighed. He really didn't have a good feeling about this.
AN: So, I know that was a slow start, but it'll get better! Spot Conlon (my favorite character!) is gonna come in soon, and we're gonna be seeing some turf war fights in the near future! Eek! So, please review! I want to know your feedback! :)
-downtonabbey15
