The Refuge was cold. There are many bad things to say about the refuge, but that's what I'll remember most.
My first order of business was to find a young man. A young man by the name of Jack Kelley, and then, find some scissors. A knife would work too, but scissors were much safer for cutting hair. My hair had grown down to my shoulders while I was stuck in their, but the length of it made my gender even more obvious.
The night was dark and I ran through the streets, looking for the building which I was told would be home for the newsies. Or some of them. This one apparently was the home for the infamous Jack Kelley. I was told, head straight for the roof and if it was before 5 in the morning he would most definitely be there.
However, as I wound through the streets I came across a heavenly smell. You rarely got food in the refuge and I knew that this smell came from a bakery. The bakery wouldn't be open at this time, because the sun wasn't up yet and not a single person walked the streets, so it would be quite simple to slip in and grab a treat. So, forgetting my mission, I followed my nose.
The bakery was a small building at the end of the street and didn't have a very suitable lock, as it only took me a minute to slip inside. I ducked down, took in my surroundings and hid behind a counter. Someone was across the room, humming to themselves and rolling out some dough. It seemed like they didn't notice me enter, so I reached up and stuffed a few rolls in my bag. Then, shoved one into my mouth and turned back to the still open door.
I realized as I tried to leave that I had missed a loose board on my way in. I didn't miss it on my way out. I tripped and dropped the roll in my mouth on the way to the door. The person rolling dough gasped and before I could get caught, I got up and ran.
The streets were still empty, but the baker screaming and chasing after me no doubt got some attention. I wove through the streets hoping to lose them, but it took a while, much longer than expected. I found a hiding place, but couldn't leave for over half an hour, settling on eating a roll while I waited. Now I only had two left, but it was more than enough to get me to where I needed to be.
It must have been after five when I left, but I hoped, with the newsboys on strike, Jack would still be there. Walking carefully, I found my way to the roof to find two abandoned sleeping bags.
Disappointing, I thought, but no matter. This town's not that big.
And sure enough, a young boy was able to point me in the right direction.
"David," he said honestly, shaking my hand. "Jack Kelley's a friend of mine. A few days ago, his friend got taken to the Refuge and no ones seen him since. I have an idea where to go though."
He began weaving down the streets, attempting to make small talk. "What's your name?"
"Kyle." I looked down, feeling the confusion cross his face.
"Quite a masculine name for a girl, don't you think?"
"Well, ask any newsboy in Brooklyn and I ain't girl." He raised an eyebrow and I felt the need to continue. "A girl newsboy is not going to sell papes."
"You're a newsie?!"
"What? Only boys need to eat?"
He look shocked at this response but didn't argue. A few minutes later he spoke up again.
"I think you'd sell more papes as a girl."
I smirked. "Why's that?"
"A girl with short hair who can't afford to buy a skirt would get more sympathy than a normal boy."
"I don't need anyone's pity." I spat.
He stopped to look at me and responded with, "Any newsie, especially one in Brooklyn, should know that pity sells. And you could very obviously use the money, looking at your ribcage."
"I'm ain't thin because I can't afford no food. I have my ways of surviving. I'm thin because they don't feed you much in the Refuge."
"You're from the Refuge?"
"I am and unless we're here, I'd like to keep going."
"I- uh… It's just down the road." He replied with wide eyes.
"Let's go then."
He began to walk again. "So, what do you want with Jack Kelley? Is this about Brooklyn's stance on the strike?"
"No, it's not."
He didn't look satisfied with that answer, but all he said was, "We're here," and stopped in front of a small theater.
I raised an eyebrow at him. "You newsboys hang in a theater? Why the hell would you sleep in the streets if you could afford tickets to see," I squinted to look at the sign, "… Miss Medda Larkin?"
"Who said we could afford tickets?" he said, then ran up the fire escape stairs and jumped in a window.
Can't get in anymore trouble today, can I? I followed suit and found myself in the catwalk backstage. David waited for me to walk up to continue through the catwalk until we came across a boy talking to a very large woman in a frilly dress.
David sighed, "How about lettin' a pal know your alive? Where'd'ya go, we couldn't find ya." Then, ran for the stairs leading down from the catwalk. I followed him, assuming this boy was the one I was looking for.
"You ever think I didn't wanna be found?" he snarled, then looked at me. "Who's this?"
"Kylee by birth, but you call me that and I'll slit your throat. I go by Kyle." I crossed my arms.
"Is that a real place? Is that Santa Fe? Hey! Did you see the pape? We're front page news above the fold! Oh yes! Above the fold!" He showed off, pointing at the picture that was indeed above the fold.
"Good for you." Mr. Kelley responded sarcastically.
"Hey! Everyone wants to meet the famous Jack Kelley."
"Is that what she's doing here?" He said, pointing an accusatory finger my way.
"No way do I care about you guys or your little strike. I bring news."
"What kind of news?" Jack asked skeptically.
"News from the Refuge."
Their questions were interrupted by a young boy that shouted, "Look there he is! Just like I said!"
I looked up to see a child of about 10 and a girl my age up on the catwalk.
"Where does a fellow gotta go to get away from here?!" Jack shouted.
"Oh there's no escaping us pal!" David retorted. "We're inevitable."
The young boy made it down and said, "So what's the story? Can we have the theata?"
"Pipe down, I haven't asked him yet!" David ran to the boy.
"Look!" I felt the need to butt in. "I'm not here for your strike or your drama."
"Who's that?" The little boy asked.
"You look like hell." The girl suddenly said.
"Hey Jack! Where's that supposed to be?"
"Its Santa Fe." David replied.
"Ugh. Well I gotta tell you Jack, this go west young man routine is getting tiring. Even Horace Greeley moved back to New York."
"Yes he did," The child said, "And then he died."
"I don't care about your obsession with Santa Fe." I tried again, but it was no use. They just kept talking.
"Can we get back to business? Will Medda let us have the theata?" I was starting to get the feeling this child was pretty arrogant kid.
"That's what I've been trying to tell ya!" David ran to Jack. "We want to hold a rally… A city wide meeting where every newsie gets a say and a vote. And we do it after work hours. So no one loses a days pay. Smart?"
Jack looked disgusted. "Yeah. Smart enough to get you commited to a padded room."
"What? The guy who paints places he's never seen is calling us crazy?" The girl looked defiant but she wasn't very intimidating in her pink dress and pretty curls. I bet she had never been hungry in her life.
"You want to see a place I've seen? How about this?" He asked venomously. He swung the beautiful painting around to reveal a horrible sketch of a large boot stepping on a bunch of kids. I wasn't there for the strike, but I hadn't heard it was anywhere near this bad. Everything I had heard came from a pretty optimistic young boy.
"Newsies Square! Thanks to my big mouth," he announced. He rambled on until David interrupted.
"Lighten up, no one died."
"Oh IS THAT WHAT YOUR AIMING FOR?"
"LISTEN! Both of you!" I shouted over their argument. "Do you really think that it's going to end with death?"
"There ain't no way I'm putting those kids back in danger."
"We're doing something that's never been done before, how could that not be dangerous?" David said, though I wasn't sure whether he was talking to me or Jack.
"I have a letter. A letter from your friend, Crutchie."
Jack looked sadly, "It don't matter. I tried to see Crutchie, at the Refuge." He turned to David. "I slipped around back and I climbed the fire escape. They busted him up so bad, HE COULDN'T EVEN COME TO THE WINDOW!"
"He told me to give this to you! He said it was urgent that you got it!" I shouted over him. "He wrote it this morning."
I rummaged through my bag, then pulled out the letter and shoved it at him. He quickly ripped it open and began reading. "I'm not a part of your fight, but it's far from over. If a boy like Crutchie can still be so optimistic, so willing to fight, you must be a pretty good friend. So David, if you would do the honors of drilling your ideas of grandeur into Jack's head, I have a crippled boy to save."
David smiled at me, then turned to Jack, who was slowly finishing the letter. "Tell me how quitting does Crutchie any good?"
"I- its-"
"Exactly! So here's how it goes, once we win, and we will be winning make no mistake."
"We'll be what?"
"We're already winning-"
"Right!"
"And Kyle'll tell em straight out they let Crutchie go or they keep getting pounded."
"It's just not that easy." I replied in the same tone of voice.
"Dave what the hell did they bust up your brains or something, as I recall Dave, we all got our asses kicked. They won!"
"Won the battle!"
"Oh come on!"
"Jackie think about it we've got them surrounded."
"Here's what I think Joe's a jerk. He's a rattlesnake."
"You're right! And you know why a snake starts to rattle."
"No why?"
"Cause he's scared. Go and look it up, the poor guys head is spinning."
"He'll lose everything see-" I added, the same way.
"Why would he send for the goons, an entire army, dozens of goons and the cops and-"
"You know you may be right."
"Thank you God!"
"If he wasn't afraid."
"Exactly!"
"He knows we're winning."
"Get those kids to see we're circling victory and watch what happens. We're doing something no ones even tried and yes we're terrified, but watch what happens."
"You can't undo the past."
"So just move on and stay on track. Cause Humpty Dumpty is about to crack."
"We've got faith."
"We've got the plan."
"And we've got Jack!"
"So just watch what happens. We're back!"
"And I've got a date!" The little boy finished.
"A date?" I heard as Dave, the girl, and the little boy, made for the exit, but Jack didn't move.
"How is he?" He asked slowly.
"Depends, was he able to walk when you knew him?" I joked, but Jack flinched and I lost my attitude.
"He'll be fine. I wasn't jokin' about bustin him outta there. That kid means a lot to me by now."
"That kid is my brother! He's my family! If he don't make it back-"
"Calm down." I reached into my bag and pulled out one of the rolls and threw it at him. "I will bring him straight up to that rooftop with your sleeping bags and patch him up, good as new. I know what its like to almost lose a brother."
"Oh yeah? What brother would that be?" He took a large bite out of the roll without so much as a thank you. Not that I was expecting one.
"Spot Conlon. And no, not by blood. But I can't wait to see him again. He'll be here tomorrow right?"
"He will." Jack agreed. And by the look in his eye I could see it. We weren't gonna give up now. He's got his strike and I got my family to protect. The newsboys of Brooklyn wouldn't survive long without me anyway.
"Oh, and in case I don't see him again, tell David that I might just adopt his idea."
"Sure thing." And with that, he spit into his hand, holding it out for me to shake.
I smiled and did the same.
"Nice meeting you Kyle."
"Likewise." I went to leave, but turned abruptly and said, "Oh, do you have any scissors?"