Note: this takes place after the strike, assuming that everything stays the same. I also know that "Tomorrow" is from Annie and Annie was made long after, but, come on, we can just pretend.
"Wake up, wake up now!" shouted Mush. "Emergency! Kloppman's talkin' to a goil downstairs! She's goin' ta live here and be a newsie wid us!"
"Shut up, Mush," said Race. "This heah's a news boys boardin' house, not a news boys and goils house." He got out of bed and stretched. "Besides, no goil would wanna stay here wid us. We's just a house of 'ill mannered runaways.'" He paused, and to his satisfaction, heard laughter. "Not to mention, dat they prob'ly wouldn't let her stay."
"Yeah, Race, well dey are lettin' her stay," said Mush, angry that they weren't taking him seriously. His next remark was cut off by the arrivance of two people. One was Kloppman, the other was the girl.
"Alright, everybody, this is Carinne—." The girl cut him off.
"Actually, I'd like to be called Carrie," she said. The newsies all looked at her. Her hair was really short, and dark brown, and she wore a dark hat and coat.
"Well, I'll just let you introduce yourselves," said Kloppman while he was leaving, but his look said, "You better be nice." The guys looked at each other, then Jack stepped forward.
"Name's Jack Kelly, but most people call me Cowboy. If you wanna stay wid us, you're gonna need a newsie name." The others nodded, grinning. "So, how's about…" Carrie cut in again.
"I don't think…"
"Hey, what is it with you and interruptin'? As I was sayin', how's about…hey, you got mud all over your coat 'n' shoes. Wanna change inta somethin' clean? That's it, Mud!" They all laughed, including Carrie, or actually, Mud."
"I'm Kid Blink," said a boy with an eye patch, and one by one, Boots, Specs, Mush, and the rest stepped up and introduced themselves.
"We's gonna have ta get ya a sellin' spot, but for now ya can sell wid me, Jack Kelly, da best of da best," said Jack, to the other newsies' laughter. "Foist, though, I'll show ya arond. Take ya to see Medda. You'll need ta know her if ya's tryin' ta get away from da bulls sometime."
***********************************************************
"Heya, Jack, how ya been?" Medda asked.
"Medda, I'd like ta innerduce ya to Mud, the newest newsie this side a Manhattan. Mud, this is Medda Meddalarkson, the Swedish meddalark."
They shook hands.
"Mud, could you do me a favor?" asked Medda. "I need someone to sing a song vile I go change my costume."
"Well, sure. I'm not such a great singer, but I'll try. I just hope I don't scare away your audience for good."
"Oh, I don't think so. I've got a hunch that you've got a fine voice. Now go out dere and use it!" Medda left to change, and Jack pointed the way for Mud.
Mud entered the stage, and the audience fell quiet.
"I's gonna sing a song that has a special meanin' for me. It's called "Tomorrow."
"The sun'll come out
Tomorrow
Betcher bottom dollar that
Tomorrow, there'll be sun…
Just thinkin' about
Tomorrow
Clears away the cobwebs and the sorrow
'Till there's none…
When I'm stuck with a day, that's gray, and lonely
I just stick out my chin, and grin, and say…
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…
The sun'll come out
Tomorrow
So ya gotta hang on, 'till tomorrow
Come what may
Tomorrow, tomorrow
I love ya
Tomorrow
You're always a day…
A………way!
~ "Tomorrow", from the Broadway play, "Annie"
~ This is the property of Martin Charnin (I think) and those other people
Everyone was silent. Then a rush of applause broke out, filling Irving Hall. Beet red, Mud bowed three times and left the stage. Backstage, she was met by Jack and Medda.
"Wow," said Jack. "That was amazing."
"Hey, kid, you should sing here with me. Vith a voice like that, you could make hundreds!" added Medda.
"I don't know. I'm not planning on stayin' here long, just 'till I find my brudda."
"Well, if you need a bit more money, just come here and sing for a while. Here." Medda handed Mud $2. "You earned this."
"Thanks!" exclaimed Mud. "Maybe I will come back after all!"
***********************************************************
Out side, Jack asked Mud, "What brudda? Ya never said anything about no brudda."
'Well, it's a sad story. Can I tell you later?"
"Sure, Mud." he replied. "Now, I'll give ya de grand tour of New York."
***********************************************************
Ten hours later, they stopped outside a bar.
"So, ya's got all that?" asked Jack.
"Yeah, sure. Hey, what's dis place? You's never said anything about goin' inta bars," said Mud inquiringly.
"Well, dis just happens ta be the place where Spot Conlon is tanight. And you's might get ta meet him. Can ya play poker?"
"Yeah, pretty good."
***********************************************************
10 minutes later, Mud had won ½ the money at the table.
"Alright, now, who's for a game of Spit?" she asked teasingly. "Come on, I'll even play for bets."
"Nah, that's a kid's game, I ain't playin' it," was some of the answers she got. Then one boy stepped forward. He had blue eyes and sandy hair. An excited murmur ran around the room.
"Sure, I'll play." He sat down. Mud shuffled the cards, not letting her face show any expression. "One handed," he said.
"Sure, why not. 10c starter," she said, knowing somehow that he would raise it. She'd seen him before, but she couldn't think exactly where. She'd never been in Manhatten before, but she did have a vague idea of who he could be.
"20."
"50."
"Alright, 50c," the boy answered easily.
Mud dealt out the cards quickly. There was only one person who'd ever beaten her at Spit, and if he won, it could prove who he was.
**********************************************************
A ½ an hour later, the boy was winning. Then, with a quick round, he had won the entire game, and the pile of money that had gradually accumulated. Now Mud was sure she knew who he was. The way he looked up, his forehead furrowed in concentration. Everything about him. After they shook hands, she looked at him and said one word, to test if he really was who she thought he was.
"Benny."
He looked up, frozen. There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes.
"Carrine."
"That's Spot, Mud. The guy I told you about…" Jack broke off.
"Why'd ya leave, Ben?" asked Mud. "We was all happy, and then ya had ta ruin everything."
"How's Mom and Dad?" he asked, trying to keep his voice level.
"They're fine, Ben. But you don't feel much when you're six feet unda." She laughed bitterly at his startled inward breath. "When you left, Mom died. You were always her favorite. Dad died soon afta. Then all da kids got put in orphanages, but I was too big. So I wandered around for a while, takin' odd jobs at places for years, until I got here. And found ya. Well, good bye, Benny, good bye." Mud walked out the door. There was a stunned silence, and then Spot said quaveringly, "Who's for a game of poker?"