Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies, nor am I affiliated with Disney in any way. Thanks to Jazz for reminding me to post this.
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The light refracted through the stained glass windows in a brilliant array of colors, giving the church a vibrant, peaceful atmosphere. Letting the heavy wooden door fall shut behind me, I stepped into the small chapel with the same uplifted, comfortable feeling that made Sunday mornings my favorite time of the week. Dipping two fingers into the holy water near the entrance, I hastily made the sign of the cross. Quickly making my way to my customary position adjacent to the organ, I paused only to genuflect before sitting down in the first row of pews. Mass had already started, and the processional was beginning. Switch held out his hymnal towards me, wordlessly offering to share. I sent him a grateful look before beginning to sing.
Mass was the same every week. I'd come rushing in at the last minute while Switch waited patiently for me, holding my spot. In the eight years that we'd been attending church together, I can't remember a single time in which Switch failed me. Dependable and constant, he was the one part of my life that I'd come to rely totally upon. Everything and everyone else seemed transient, appearing to come and go in an unfathomable, random parade of faces and objects. Switch seemed eternal, as if some kind of steadfast, invariable force compelled him to be in the same spot every week just so I could retain some semblance of sanity and dignity. The idea that one week Switch might not be there waiting for me was unthinkable. It was something that, though certainly not taken for granted, was a given in my life.
Following Mass, Switch and I strolled out of St. Cecilia's talking and laughing animatedly. The day was sunny and bright, and I was in an uncommonly good mood. "Look at me! I'm da king a New Yawk!" I belted out, executing a spontaneous little tap dance on the street. Switch rewarded my efforts with an indulgent smile and cocked eyebrow. "Suddenly! I'm respectable -- heya, Switch! Check 'dat out!" I said urgently, pointing to the alley across the road. At least twenty newsies looked to be involved in a street fight. The sound of angry voices and scattered debris lining the alley bounced off the brick walls. "Let's go see what's goin' on!" I started toward the alley, only to be yanked back roughly.
"Stay here!" Switch ordered harshly. I nodded absently and my eyes wandered back to the alley. Grabbing my chin, he forced my gaze to meet his. "I doan wanna hafta bail youse outta trouble wid Jack again. Those is Bronx an' Staten Island newsies. You go an' get youseself hoit, den youse get da Manhattan newsies involved. B'fore ya knows it, Brooklyn an' Queens'll hafta choose sides too. I ain't gonna let youse start a damn newsies free-fer-all 'cause youse can't control ya'self."
I nodded meekly and winced. "Youse right, a coise. Ise'll stay outta it. But somebody's gotta do somethin'... Soona or lata, it'll get outta hand. Da Bronx and Staten Island has been fightin' non-stop for weeks now." The rapidly escalating violence only a hundred feet away added emphasis to my words.
"Look, heah's what wese gonna do. Youse is gonna run as fast as youse can ta get Jack, an' Ise'll wait right heah fer Spot."
"How's Spot gonna know ta come heah?" I asked in confusion.
"He'll jes' know. Spot always knows stuff like dat. Now go!" he said, gesturing for me to leave. Stealing one last glance at the struggling mass of boys, I tore off in the direction of the Manhattan Newsboys' Lodging House.