O Little Borough of Brooklyn

A Secret Santa Story written for Relic

By Laces

How Still We See Thee Lie

Papers flew up into the air in a burst of excitement, as the distinct sound of running echoed down an empty alley. The snow was fresh upon the ground and the papers were damp before they settled into the snow that melted the printed words of The Journal into each other. The two running figures dashed around the corner and luckily didn't slip as they stormed into the Brooklyn Boys Lodging House.

Spot Conlon was leaning against his black cane at the bottom of the stairs before a blur of movement nearly knocked him to the ground. Before Spot could regain his composure another blur kicked at his cane, but this time the leader of Brooklyn swayed momentarily before turning around to glare at the people responsible for his lapse of grace.

The pair of blue eyes twitched up in time to catch the sight of a fist knocking into a gut. Spot reacted before taking in the scene, twirling his cane up and forcefully pushing the punching aggressor away from the punched. Furious Chuckles, the punching newsie, shoved Spot's cane away as he tried to throw another fist into the kicking figure of Relic.

Chuckles was heaving, his freckles burning on his flushed face. Ignoring the cane that burn into his hip, the younger boy flew back into the kicking girl lying on the step. Relic kicked her thin brown soles up at Chuckles, flaring up the layers of her skirts.

Ruin, the newsie that had been talking to his leader only moments before had absorbed the scene faster than his fearless captain and jumped in immediately sending a solid set of his right hand knuckles into Chuckles jaw.

"What you doing hitting a girl?" Ruin demanded as Chuckles fell down to the ground clutching his own jaw in pain. Relic started to hurl herself down the stairs to finish the fight she had begun but Spot shot his cane out, letting the girl's gut impact into it before he caught her around the waist. Spot's right arm clutched the thin waist of Relic as he carefully started twirling his cane around with his left hand, a habit that indicated he was waiting for someone to explain themselves.

"That little tart started the fight," Chuckles grumbled, still sitting on the ground. Ruin shook his head as he looked over at his best friend, not for a second doubting the little brunette haired girl in Spot's strong arm had started the fight.

"Who told you to call women tarts?" Spot kicked at his newsie swiftly.

"She ain't no woman, she's Relic. Sides, she's got a decking coming to her." Chuckles demanded justice as he stood up, still rubbing his jaw.

"You want to soak someone?" Spot asked controlling his tone, as he pushed Relic at Ruin. Relic tripped in her own skirts before Ruin caught her and held onto her shoulders, expertly holding her still while Spot dealt with Chuckles. Chuckles scrambled to his feet, not wanting to be caught with any more disadvantages to Spot than necessary.

"I just want to teach the thing a lesson is all," Chuckles pointed at Relic again. Spot took a step up to the younger boy, their faces inches from each other.

"I ever find you beating on a girl again and I'll soak the blood out of ya. You understand?" Spot whispered. The gray cap that rarely left his head was casting a menacing shadow over most of Spot's face as he threatened the younger boy. Chuckles clenched his jaw and even his freckles appeared to burn with indignation but the hot-tempered Irish boy knew better than to pick a fight with Spot.

"Yeah, Spot. But she's the one that started it." Chuckles complained.

"Don't I take care of problems with me newsies?" Spot demanded leaning back and crossing his arms.

"Yeah, well…" Chuckles grumbled feeling uncomfortable under the icy cold stare of Spot Conlon.

"Go on with you, get." Spot tilted his head towards the door. Chuckles shot a dirty look at Relic, still being cradled in Ruin's arms before he ducked down picking up the last few papers he had left. Spot waited until Chuckles had shut the lodging house door before turning around to stare at Ruin and Relic.

The fierce fighting misfits of Harlem had proven their worth in their new borough months ago. Ruin was a level headed boy, who just couldn't safely carry or be around anything breakable. He had easily and readily been accepted into the Brooklyn bunch even though he smiled more than the average Brooklyn boy. Ruin was an quick on his feet, fiercely loyal and had undefeated fists of lead. Relic, on the other hand, was a much more complicated story. Ruin had easily spun the girl around in his arms as he bent down to examine her face.

"Did he hurt you?" Ruin was pressing his fingers into Relic's gut, watching her face react to any pain. Ruin was a tall boy, basically towering over the much shorter Relic in his arms. Relic was struggling against her best friend, avoiding eye contact with the leader that was now staring at her.

"Relic," Spot smacked his lips together. Ruin released Relic as Spot beckoned the girl towards him.

"Afternoon, Spot." Relic smiled nervously, standing rooted next to Ruin. Ruin rounded his shoulder slightly pushing Relic forward.

"Haven't I told you not to pick fights with my boys?" Spot demanded.

"It wasn't my fault Spot, see the thing was…" Relic started to explain.

"It's never your fault. I'm going to let one of them beat you up one of these days," Spot warned tipping up his cane to press into Relic's chin.

"He ripped my jacket and it's the only one I got!" Relic spat defensively.

"And you dumped most of his papers into the snow, I think you got even there Relic." Ruin chuckled.

"Why do you got to go tell them I'm a girl anyway for?" Relic crossed her arms and demanded of Ruin. Her green eyes intense with confusion as she made her demand of her best friend. Ever since they had come to Brooklyn, Ruin had insisted upon pointing out that she was indeed a girl.

"Because you are a girl, stop fighting with me boys." Spot knocked her on the head with his cane.

"You got money for the string to mend your jacket?" Ruin asked seriously. He fumbled in his own pocket for the few coins he had earned. Relic was a newsie, a requirement for the lodging house that she couldn't fight or argue her way out of, but the art of selling papers for a penny a day wasn't the girl's strong suit. She preferred the art of gambling and the freedom of adventure rather than the daily grind.

"I got it." Relic frowned at her best friend. She hated when he assumed that she couldn't take care of herself, and yes there was a high probability that she would steal the thread but still.

"Stay out of trouble?" Ruin begged her before he started towards the door.

"Where's you going?" Relic skipped along with the quiet brooding leader and her best friend.

"A show, and no you're not invited." Spot snapped. He pushed his cane into a belt loop before shoving his hands into his jacket pocket preparing for the bitter cold of the city's winter.

"He's in a mood." Ruin mouthed the warning to Relic while pointing at Spot's back.

"Yeah, well I didn't want to go anyway." Relic swung a fist into the air, stopping inches away from Spot's neck. Ruin's eyebrows shot up and he shook his head.

"Be good." He whispered as he trudged along after the leader of Brooklyn. The boys stiffly walked out of the lodging house and Relic ducked out of the lodging house before the door was slammed shut by a gust of wind.

Brooklyn smelled almost clean with the fresh layer of snow. The finest borough of the city was quiet in the cold, a fine steam rising from buildings like the restlessness stirring beneath the peace. The long street in front of the Brooklyn Boys Lodging House was emptier than usual, as Spot and Ruin walked east towards the arts district with their shoulders hunched up and their heads down. Spot's determined walk would signal to any boys passing by that he was in no mood to be disturbed. Ruin was jogging as a way to keep up with the strides of Spot and in order to keep himself warm. In the opposite direction heading west, towards the markets and laundry corners of the city Relic bustled along.

She held her face up letting the winter breeze brush her cheeks and leave splotches of rosy red. She jumped into a mound of snow completely disregarding the hems of her skirts that became heavier with moisture by the second. Relic was not use to the skirts she wore, but in the winter it was sensible to dress in the layers of female clothing rather than in the singular pieces that her newsboy counterparts wore.

She tugged on the loose string from her jacket lightly, the noticeable tear of her jacket making her blood boil again. She would have revenge on a certain newsie before the day was through, but first to find some thread and needle.

As she walked along the brick buildings, playfully kicking at the snow the girl stopped at the crevice between two tenant buildings. The crevice, not quite an alley but not quite the street, housed a small game of craps. A pair of black boots, a match boy and a few of the boys that lived in the building were crowded around a pile of knick knacks and two dice.

"Two pennies," Relic threw down the coins and smiled at the circle of some familiar faces.

"You always cheat," A tiny little match boy cried.

"You can't cheat at craps stupid," One of the bigger black boots that didn't know Relic declared.

"Well she does." The match boy grumbled as Relic grabbed the dice from the nearby newsie and rolled. The dice tumbled from shaking hand to shaking hand, as the players rubbed their hands together and soon started smoking trying to keep themselves warm. The night's darkness was starting to descend on them and lights of candles and the new fangled electric Christmas strings were starting to twinkle in windows. A few games later and Relic had lost the few coins she had managed to earn earlier that morning. She was loosing patience with the game.

"Look here Ted, I don't know what game you think you're playing but I'm going to give you a shiner the size of Manhattan if you don't stop stealing me money." Relic shook her fist at the largest of the Black Boots. Ted puffed at his cigarette calmly, grinning enough to make his features covered in black soot and blotches of red on his cheeks, strike fear into the rest of the group but Relic.

"Girls shouldn't be out gambling at night anyway," Ted let out the words slowly, condescendingly. The words sent Relic into a fury and she swung the base of her palm upwards into the boy's chin as she tried not to trip over her own skirts. The circle broke into chaos as another figure dropped seemingly from no where and immediately sent a knee into Ted's hip.

"There's a bull on the corner, we have to get out of here." A voice pleaded before a warm hand grabbed Relic's nearly frozen wrist. Relic didn't need to be warned twice about the law, she started running but not as fast as the warm creature that lead her away from the scene.

The two ran until Relic suddenly smacked into a wooden barrel and stumbled back. A girl bundled in a fancy double breasted coat and a wool scarf sat on top of the barrel, her dark brown eyes smiling mischievously.

"Of course it was you," Relic commented through chattering teeth. Not being hidden in between the brick walls of tenant buildings allowed for the bitter wind of the winter wonderland to absorb all the heat in Relic's body. Laces unwrapped the scarf around her mouth, releasing the messy curls of her hair and nimbly pulled a single cigarette from one of her coat pockets. She quickly threw both objects at Relic without much warning and jumped down from the barrel.

"Where do you even come from? And where did you get that coat?" Relic asked grumpily.

"I was around." Laces shrugged still smiling.

"Around, you're always just around." Relic grumbled a bit as she gratefully wrapped the warm scarf around her shoulders. Laces was a bit shorter than Relic, and was as Relic said always just around. Since Relic had arrived in Brooklyn with Ruin just a year before, Laces had been a constant staple to her life. That first day in Brooklyn back in the Spring, Laces had appeared out of thin air walking in-between Ruin and Relic offering tips on how to make a good impression on the boy king of Brooklyn.

"And you're always in a fight. Your jacket is torn." Laces was pulling at the tear in Relic's jacket. Relic had grown accustom to the strange way that Laces appeared out of thin air and moved faster than normal people but she still questioned it every time it happened.

"Stupid Chuckles," Relic huffed. Laces laughed at the anger in Relic's voice.

Relic's green eyes flashed with anger towards Laces, steadily taking in the girl's appearance and judging the odds of winning in a fight. Laces' face was the only inch of her body not covered in clothing, showing off her odd dark but pale skin complexion that often made Relic believe the girl was part Italian. But Laces never shared information about herself, information about everything else and the bubbly girl was impossible to shut up. Relic had tried many times to judge if she could indeed beat Laces in a fight, but never been able to conclude anything mostly because Laces would react to the searching green stare before any punches could be thrown.

"Here's your money back," Laces opened her palm and four pennies and a shoe lace were sitting in her hand.

"The shoe lace wasn't mine." Relic commented as she grabbed her pennies.

"I tend to loose my laces a lot, so you know that I sort of just took that." Laces smiled innocently. Laces was an excellent pick pocket, a skill she had often refused to teach Relic claiming each time that Relic had enough bad habits for one person.

The two girls started walking down the street, Laces cautiously and discreetly leading Relic back towards the Brooklyn Lodging House. The two girls were unlikely friends, guarded Relic trusting the ever elusive Laces and the fleeting Laces standing still long enough to have a friend in Relic.

"This should be enough thread to fix that tear in your jacket." Laces commented softly holding out her index finger that had black thread and a tiny needle holding it around her knuckle. Relic hesitated in taking the thread for a moment, remembering how she had intended to go find some of her own.

"My sister's a seamstress; at least I lifted this fairly. If you go out to the laundry district you're going to just get into trouble and well Spot's in enough of a mood at this time of the year for you to go adding to it." Laces sighed recognizing the look on Relic's face. Relic pushed her heels into the snowy dirt beneath her thin shoes stubbornly and glared at Laces, unsure what part of her statement to tackle first.

"You got a sister?" Surprisingly the first thing that tumbled out of Relic's mouth wasn't any of her annoyance at being proclaimed trouble, or even about the information about Spot's mood.

"We all got siblings we don't talk about." Laces eyebrows popped with clear knowledge that made Relic clench her fists. Laces always knew secrets, things she shouldn't know, histories buried so deep they should be floating down the East River but it infuriated Relic when she made such knowing comments. Relic didn't have siblings, certainly not a brother that had broken her heart at the age of nine with his horrific display of violence.

A fist shot out before Relic even processed her own anger, it was her own fist towards the spot where Laces face had just been. Laces was now to the left of her friend having ducked out of the way easily enough. She had a charming smile on and was holding out a flaming match.

"I gave you a cigarette so you could keep warm." Laces lifted Relic's hand and lit the cigarette. That was the problem with Laces, always a step ahead of everyone she was around. And the girl was impossible to be mad at with her constant smiling and laughter paired with her almost mind reading ways of being helpful.

Relic puffed at the cigarette and took the thread and needle without anymore thought to strange siblings. The girls were silent again for a few steps as they continued on their journey.

"You look ridiculous in that coat." Relic finally scoffed.

"Ridiculous but warm." Laces giggled. "Besides, Pockets picked it up from a shipment near James & Co."

Pockets Harper another mysterious creature of the Brooklyn streets, a sometimes newsie, a sometimes boot black, and a mostly pick pocket. But he was always just around, appearing out of the same thin air as Laces with knowledge of secrets and things that were happening across the river.

"You still staying away from Manhattan on account of Jack seeing Sarah?" Relic asked pleased she knew something about her mysterious friend.

"No," Laces rolled her dark eyes. "Jack Kelly can see whoever he pleases, wants to be with a girl that ain't never picked a pocket…"

Relic puffed at her cigarette smiling at the warm air that entered her lungs but more at her friend's annoyance. Laces was a well known girl of Jack Kelly but since the strike, Kelly had been fancying the Walking Mouth's sister over the street savvy Laces.

A crowd of carolers stepped onto the main street from a corner, singing joyfully the words of the season's joys. The girls stood politely waiting for the carolers to ignore them and pass along.

"Deck the Halls with balls of holly..." The group cheerful hummed.

"Try not to get into a fight with Chuckles," Laces whispered, ignoring the singing that erupted from the elderly woman in a feather hat in front of her.

"Why not, he torn my jacket that rotten scab has got it coming to him." Relic growled as she made eye contact with a young gentlemen giggling the chorus of Deck the Halls.

As Relic flicked her finished cigarette out onto the dirty street, Laces adopted an unnaturally serious tone of voice.

"Spot is not forgiving around Christmas time. He ain't one who believes in the spirit of the season you could say. He's got a shorter fuse than usual." Laces warned. Relic frowned ready to question the proclamation but the coated hooligan had vanished.

"How does she do that?" Relic glanced around her trying to catch a glimpse of the coat her friend had been wearing but the street was empty as even the carolers had moved on. She gave up the search knowing that when Laces disappeared, she didn't reappear until she felt like it.

Relic clutched to her scarf as bits of snow started to tumbled down around her bright pink lips together she started humming the catchy tune of Deck the Halls as she wondered what it was that Laces meant about Spot and the season.