In the Blink of an Eye
Summary: You're probably going to hate me for this…
Disclaimer: I do not own the newsies or any characters you recognize from the newsies, I do own characters that you don't recognize from the movie.
Chapter 1
Callie McElroy was not beautiful, in fact she was borderline difficult to look at. Her pale skin was broken by the uneven tones that were mixed into it. Her nose jutted out of the center of her face into a perfect triangle. Literally, the shape made when someone puts they're index finger between they're eyes and they're thumb beneath they're nostrils. Her elongated and thinned face did not help to distract the onlooker from the rather large distraction at the center. Crutchy had once referred to it as giving her the look of a rat, that didn't stop him from dating her. Her hair was blonde, and looked like it had been burned by the sun rather than kissed by it. Instead of silky strands that fell seductively down her back, her hair had the texture and color of straw. She often kept it braided to avoid flaunting the unattractive texture to the only people who mattered to her; the opposite sex. The only redeeming characteristics of her face were her eyes and lips. Luckily, she'd received bright green eyes, speckled with the only freckles on her entire body within them. The small brown spots rippled out from her pupil turning into the brilliant emerald that was impossible to miss. Her lips were on the thin side, but seductively shaped and colored to attract her targets with every word she spoke.
Her thin waist was pulled in tighter by the extra small, extra expensive corsets that her mother paid for. The curves were emphasized by her wide hips, which would have suggested a heavier frame. However, paired with that tiny waist they were a weapon that she knowingly used at every given opportunity. Unfortunately, the emphasis was distributed equally on her upper half because her well endowed bosom helped define that shrunken waist even further. If there was any confusion about the shape of her body, she cleared it up by completely ignoring the modesty that most of us aspired to protect. She wore clothes dangerously tight to her waist; they were custom made to show exactly what she wanted to without crossing the line to a prostitute's wardrobe. Money can make you beautiful even when you have little to work with. Though she adamantly denied it, it was obvious to anyone who'd seen her first thing in the morning that she wore make-up. Particularly rouge to camouflage the elongated shape of her face, and add stronger cheekbones to it. She tried too hard, was too obsessed with appearances, and too concerned with men. I couldn't help but envy her a little.
Everything was so easy for her, money gave her that power. We tolerated each other for different reasons; I reaped a lot of benefits from my friendship with her. There were times I felt dirty for my fake friendship with the girl, practically paid to remain her friend by her mother who knew exactly what her daughter was. As though reading my mind her mother would plan an extravagant outing that was impossible for me to turn down, and I was stuck with her for another short while. Years later I had become completely aware of all her scheming and pretend emotions. Before you start to feel bad for the girl, understand, she didn't like me either. She didn't really like anyone; she liked attention and a lot of it, that's all. She was so desperate for attention she did not care who she received it from. If it was considered socially unacceptable to maintain a relationship with me because my economic situation was not as profitable as hers, than the boys she spent her time with was social suicide. Because no one of proper upbringing could stand to be in her company for very long, I became her best friend, stuck with her because it enhanced my own economic situation. Even if she'd been a lovely girl whom the other socialites loved, her desire for attention led her to people they'd never consider associating with; newsies. That's right; one of Manhattan's nearly wealthy socialites went to the slums of both Manhattan and Brooklyn to spend time with the only males who would pay her the attention she desired.
Of course as her perfectly placed sidekick, I was forced to spend an equal amount of time with the newsies as she did. She brought me on her outings, sometimes only as an alibi for her mother, who certainly would not have approved of what she did with those newsies. I personally didn't understand why she wouldn't just accept money for her services if she was going to service them so regularly. She didn't see it that way. Despite that fact that she'd made her way through nearly every newsie residing in New York, because it had been one at a time these 'relationships' were perfectly acceptable. All the relationship consisted of was a trading of attention for sex, and then she moved on to a more popular newsie, working her way up the social ladder of the insignificant until she reached the top. Callie Mcelroy always needed to be with the best, it validated her existence.
"This is going to be awkward" I whined knowing that my comfort was none of her concern whatsoever.
"It'll be fine, Lia" She responded with the simple flick of her wrist, my problems were so trivial compared to whether or not Spot Conlon was ever going to say 'I love you.'. Of course everyone who wasn't Callie Mcelroy knew that no such thing was ever going to happen. Spot was one of the few newsies not impressed by her glamour and who saw her for exactly what she was; a cheap lay. He used her when there was nothing better around for him, and did not care any more for her than she cared for me. It was refreshing to see someone see through the façade, and was the only reason I respected Spot Conlon. We once had an entire conversation on the topic once while Callie was off crying on Mush's shoulder because of how Spot had mistreated her. We had a good laugh about it, I liked Spot but unfortunately I was rarely given the opportunity to talk to him. He was busy trying to find girls to lay anyway, that wasn't what I liked him for, he was simply one of the few newsies who I could have a conversation with, without having to fake sympathy at the unrequited 'love' they felt over Callie. It was sickening.
The walk was beginning to become unbearable in Callie's too-small-for-me shoes that were crushing my toes together so tightly I was starting to wonder whether I'd be able to separate them after. Not to mention the fact that the rain was starting to pick up, by the time I got there my hair was going to be stuck to my neck. I whined inwardly, rationalizing to myself that I really didn't care what the newsies thought anyway. I allowed my thoughts to predict the night ahead of me. I didn't even know who would be there, I assumed all of Manhattan since it was a 'party' at they're lodging house. Every night was a party the only reason we were making an appearance tonight was because Spot Conlon was. I wondered if the place would be filled with whores. It was always awkward to talk to even the boys who were my friends when their testosterone was perked up to that level. Especially Mush, once he was excited anything that moved was fair game and it was annoying trying to enlist the help of the others to avoid him all night.
Despite their faults, I couldn't help but like them. Even when I hated them, they were my friends, the only ones I had. Callie and I were stuck together because neither of us could do any better, and these same circumstances led to the newsies. It would be wrong to deny the fact that I enjoyed spending time with them, socially acceptable or not. It's just that I hated to admit it, especially to Callie who then used it justify the fact that she constantly left me alone to go off with her ever-changing beaus.
"Party can start now, I'm here" Callie called into the bunkroom as she ascended the stairs. Upon reaching the top she'd suddenly lost the ability to walk without swinging her hips dramatically from side to side. The room was surprisingly, nearly empty. There were only a handful of newsies in the bunkroom, sitting at the far corner of the room spread out over the bunks furthest from the staircase. I recognized Mush's curly hair even from across the room. He was spread out across a bunk that he claimed for himself, one leg hanging over the edge. His head supported by one arm folded under it.
On the bunk opposite from him was a boy I hadn't met before, his hair was shaggy and blonde, the color Callie wished she had. It flew around his head, as he adjusted the eye patch that covered one eye. The other was a brilliant cerulean only a shade duller than Spot's. With his one eye he was able to perfectly express the annoyance he was clearly feeling. His broad shoulders were pressed against the pole used to frame the bed. His legs hung over one side, pressing flat into the floor. A cigarette dangled from his lips, which he refused to use his hands to smoke. He was handing a cigarette to my favorite newsie, Crutchy.
Crutchy was sprawled out on the floor, his legs spread out in front of him, one at an obscure angle taking up as much room as he could. He leaned back on one arm bent at the elbow, his torso and other arm brought forward by his desire to obtain the cigarette. Crutchy was completely insane, he'd crippled his leg jumping from a moving horse and buggy to 'see if he could land on the horse', he couldn't. Crutchy would do anything so long as it made for a good story.
Jack was sitting behind mystery boy; his greasy hair fell into his face as he moved forward to welcome us. His left arm was wrapped around Sarah, whose hair was curtained lovingly over it. She leaned her head into his chest when he returned to his position next to her.
Skittery sat on the floor, separated from the rest by the crutch set down next to its owner. His slightly curled hair jumped joyfully as he nodded his welcome to us. He leaned his weight back on one hand when he was finished, waving in conjunction with the welcoming smile on his face.
"Where is everybody?" Callie asked looking disappointed that the group was so small tonight. Her annoyed expression disappeared when Spot Conlon emerged from the washroom carrying an armful of dark colored glass bottles. His crystalline eyes were unconnected with the rest of his boys; his smile was a menacing one.
"Vaudeville Theater" Jack answered not bothering to explain this statement.
"Yeah, Medda's giving a free show for the newsies tonight" Race continued where Jack had left room for elaboration.
"Why didn't you guys go?" Callie asked, trying not to make eye contact with Spot Conlon, whose gaze was not remotely directed toward her. She was pretending not to be interested in him.
"Kloppman went too" Race continued
"So that means we get to take out the stash of whiskey!" Crutchy finished, his voice had this habit of finishing a sentence in a much higher pitch voice than sounded natural when he was excited about something. That something was usually dangerous, illegal or just plain stupid.
"Hey, Amelia"
"Did you just call her Amelia" Callie called turning away from her group of fans. I rolled my eyes, two seconds of attention from one of her boys and she was jealous. "That's just weird, Mush".
"Yeah, that is really weird Mush, never say that again" I scolded with a wink knowing fully that he knew I hated to be called by my full name, it was the only reason he did it.
"Mush, don't call her that ever again." Callie echoed as though she was not only the first to say it, but that her orders were to be followed without question. "Don't worry Lia, he'll listen to me" she assured me, establishing her dominance over me while seemingly standing up for me.
"Um, okay, I guess" Mush responded, sarcastically implying that he 'guessed it was okay for her to tell him what to do' a phrase that he angrily normally added to the end of his sentences. This was his favorite response to just abut everything.
"Who said whiskey?" I asked eyeing the bottle, and causing uproar of laughter between the boys. Callie smiled and laughed her high pitch squeak of obnoxiousness along with them. I raised my eyebrows, slightly annoyed at the delay of me receiving my whiskey. I opened my eyes halfway to imply that this was unnecessary laughter since they all knew how much I liked my alcohol, especially around Callie.
"Lia, I love you" She added at the end of her impression of a pig's squeal, and I smiled in response when she handed me a bottle. I took a long swig of the strong liquor and barely made a face when I removed it from my lips, I'd become immune to the taste with the amount of time I spent drinking it.
Callie squeezed onto the bed with Mush, twirling her fingers around the straw strands at the end of her braid. She leaned against the wall at the head of the bed, facing the other newsies and ignoring Mush. The moment the whiskey kicked in I relaxed into a lulled sense of reality. That was my favorite feeling in the world. The tingling sensation in my arms when the whiskey finally hit. I leaned back and exhaled as if getting a neck massage. My anxiety was gone, I was myself again.
"So, what are we doing tonight guys?" Callie asked still twirling her hair between her fingers.
"You're looking at it" Spot replied, extending his arms him font of him.
"We're just going to sit in this room and drink whiskey?" She asked annoyed.
"That's what I'm doing, I don't really care whether you do or not" He answered, tormenting her.
"Lia, do you have a problem with this?" Spot asked changing his icy tone when addressing me.
"I'm good" I responded, taking another swig and sinking deeper into the relaxation.
"Lia's always good once you give her some alcohol" Skittery jumped in. I really didn't like him.
"Hey!" I started to protest before taking a good look at the bottle. "No, it's true" I finished taking another swig from the gluttonously.
"Really enjoying that bottle?" Eye-patch boy asked me. I thought that seemed like a pretty stupid question and so I shook my head while removing the bottle from my mouth.
"No, Patchy, I don't even like to drink" I responded sarcastically before returning the bottle to my lips.
"Patchy?" He reeled back offended. "The names Blink" He added pointing to his face.
"Blink?"
"Because he can't" Crutchy explained next to me. That was too much for me, I knew all these boys had ridiculous nicknames, but I found that hysterical. I couldn't help laughing, and repeating 'because he can't' through my cackles. If Callie squealed like a piglet, I cackled like on a witch on helium. At the sound I saw Blink and Crutchy exchange a look of sheer amusement.
"Best. Laugh. Ever" Race congratulated me through his own hysterics. Race could never keep a straight face when I got the giggles, just like I couldn't stop myself when Crutchy did something stupid.
"I've been told my laugh is very funny." Callie informed us angrily. I could barely keep in my laugh as she made a fool out of herself.
"It is" Mush responded slowly, as he, Crutchy and I exchanged looks of horrified embarrassment for her. He patted her on the head as he spoke, which caused a look of satisfied annoyance to cross her face. This sent her into her 'what am I your dog?' Routine and the two of them became lost in their own world of play-fighting.
"Where's Mary tonight, Skits?" I heard Race ask from behind me. I rolled my eyes knowing exactly what triad this was going to spark. Next to me Crutchy gave me a knowing smile, before mimicking my eye rolling to an extreme degree so that he looked like he was having a seizure.
"She's not 'interested' in anything other than friendship" I heard the bitter tone of Skittery's raspy voice behind me. He was gaining anger. "She said I reminded her of her brother. What the fuck is that? I always get screwed over with girls. You know, Race, you always see it. I can never get a girlfriend. I mean really what the fuck is wrong with me; I know I'm good looking, what's wrong with all of them."
Skittery annoyed me so much, he was one of those people whose self-delusion is so off that you just want to tell them exactly what is wrong with them to knock them down off their high horse. It was seriously impossible for me to even acknowledge Skittery as a good looking person, because his personality was so irritating it made him simply repulsive.
I turned toward Crutchy again shooting him my most annoyed look as I brought the bottle to my lips and allowed as much to spill down my throat as I could before the taste became too much at one time. Crutchy mouthed 'I'm bored', which sent a smile to my lips. When Crutchy got bored that meant entertainment was never too far off.
"Skittery don't worry you'll get a girl you just need to wait for the right one." Sarah's voice was wispy and soft. Sarah was nice. I mean that this was the only word to describe the girl. She was always proper, never drinking because ladies didn't drink 'spirits' as she called them, but it was perfectly alright with her that I drank more alcohol than some of the boys. It's not that there was anything about Sarah to dislike it's just that there was nothing there for me to like. She was polite, always having the politically correct response, always with heartfelt advice. She never got mad, she never cussed. You'd never catch her and Jack fighting, or kissing for that matter. It was as though she never let any of us in far enough to see her break her mask, or there just weren't any other elements to her personality. I couldn't help it; I found it personally amusing to shock her as much as possible.
"We could all go swimming" Crutchy started. It began.
"Where?" Callie asked rudely. "This isn't Brooklyn" She continued trying to lighten her demeanor.
"We could walk to Brooklyn" He responded excitedly. Only Crutchy would want to walk to Brooklyn after dark, for no reason.
"Just to go swimming?" Jack piped in, the voice of reason.
"Crutchy you could hurt yourself" Sarah chimed in, motherly always looking out for the well-being of others.
"Yeah, how you going to use your crutches in the water?" Blink piped in.
"Same way I do on land" Crutchy responded lifting his crutch off the ground and extending it far enough to whack Blink in the arm with it resulting in a resounding "The fuck?!" from the victim of the attack.
"We can't go swimming anyway, Crutch, it's raining" I said settling the matter.
"Lia" Spot drew out the two syllables of my name, implying the importance of his statement. He paused for dramatic effect, pronouncing the three words very slowly as if teaching a child. "Water is wet"
That sent me back into hysterics, only Spot Conlon could oversimplify something to such an extreme as to make me feel like a complete moron. That was part of his charm, I guess.
"Spot, come here" Callie purred, bending one knee and draping her arm over it. With her other hand she seductively placed the braid behind her back. Her eyes narrowed slightly targeting him.
"I'm sitting" His tone left no doubt that the conversation was meant to be over.
"Just come over here for a minute, Spot." Mush's eyes narrowed, and his brow furrowed side glancing his bedmate of the moment. "Please" She cooed, having nowhere near enough self-respect to prevent herself from acting desperate. She could not find enough dignity in her to relent her begging even after being ignored continuously. Finally, clearly out of irritation, Spot rose and stood near the bed Callie was sharing with Mush. She blinked up at him, satisfied in her own delusions that she could control Spot because of his love for her. She leaned forward slightly, her intention clear as she puckered her lips dramatically expecting a response. Spot's head reeled back horrified.
"I hope she knows I'd never treat her like that" Crutchy whispered in my ear. Crutchy never fully understood the idea of concealing one's emotions. At a loss of what to say I turned toward him with my most apologetic look and shrugged slightly to express my understanding. When Crutchy started talking like this it always made me feel uncomfortable, but that was just Crutchy, reckless with his body and emotions.
"You called me over here for a kiss?" Spot belittled her with his tone. Spot was never going to respond to her attempt at cuteness. Anyone with a half a brain would realize that. Callie looked more angry than hurt, it made sense to me. If he embarrassed her in front of his fellow newsies then she lost status. That could lead to her losing her safety nets for the days Spot found other toys, and that was probably Callie's worst fear. Spot had returned to his former seat and conversation before Callie could lean her head back against Mush's arm, which tightened around her protectively. She allowed it, leaning into him and embracing his possessiveness. That was good for me; it meant we weren't going to leave yet. I turned to Crutchy for entertainment; my request was delivered only through visual communication.
"Poker?" His suggestion was meant for me but the response came from the pirate behind me.
"I got a deck of cards" He offered looking around to see if anyone else was going to participate.
"Where'd you get a deck of cards?" Race asked accusingly.
"Same way you got the whiskey" He shot back, seemingly offended. Race chuckled nodding his head in agreement.
"What? You going to play, Race?" Blink asked in a friendly tone, trying to take back his previous curtness.
"Have you ever met me before?" Race asked his eyes narrowing in conjunction with his almost-serious sarcasm. Race believed that the only real form of gambling was to place bets on horses. It was based on good breeding, and the ability to assess a horse's assets. It didn't rely on sheer luck the way the games he looked down on did. Cards and craps were below him.
"I'll play" I chimed in, happy to have a new face to play with. Crutchy rolled his eyes next to me; I didn't even have to turn my head to be aware of it.
"Anyone else?" He asked aloud, when there was no response Blink moved onto the floor, joining Crutchy and I. He shuffled professionally, which I have to admit, was impressive. I shot Crutchy a look that clearly said to keep quiet, he raised his eyebrows in response, amused.
"The game is five card draw, three card change unless you have an ace which you then keep, one cent buy in, oh, and deuces wild" He rattled off as though trying to sell me something I didn't need.
"Deuces wild?" I affirmed.
"It means that any '2' card can be used as anything." He explained. Big shot, this was going to be fun. I drew my lips slowly into the shape of an "o" the understanding playing across my face. I surveyed the cards in my hand, smiling brightly as I did. When I looked up I met a look of satisfaction in the only eye there was to read. Obviously, he was thinking he was playing cards with a cripple and an easy-read. I couldn't look at Crutchy.
"Three" I demanded, bringing my face back into a neutral position, increasing the amusement in the blue eye before me.
"Sure" He responded, a smirk playing on his lips. Crutchy folded, and I had to keep my eyes on the ground. Maximum bet was five cents, unless it was a special occasion. There was no need to sleep on the streets when we were merely playing out of boredom. After seeing my excited smile, Blink must have assumed I had a good hand and folded in an attempt to save himself some money. I showed a pair of Queens.
At this point Blink must've been thinking I was a complete moron. Only a woman would get excited over one pair. I continued my game for awhile, alternating between happy and angry demeanor's, always exchanging cards three at a time. When I had a low hand I made a show of my excitement, on a better hand I'd fold. This phase was setting my opponent up. Crutchy folded every hand on the first round of betting. If anything he was going to expose me.
When I was confident this kid thought that I didn't know any good hand other than a pair, I smiled dramatically and traded only two cards. I have no idea what he was thinking, but he raised me three cents and I called. He must have had a good hand; it was so much more fun that way. My eye met his, daring him to raise me again. I had to get him to fold; it wouldn't do any good to show cards now. I raised, continuing until he broke a sweat. We were well passed five cents each, the pot had a decent amount of copper in it, neither one of us were calling on it.
I looked around realizing for the first time that Callie and Spot had disappeared. While this excused my good mood, it didn't explain why Jack, Sarah, Race and Skittery had their own circle surrounding us. Blink and I were clearly in the spotlight. I didn't realize how long we'd been one-upping each other. I didn't want to lose; this was the finale to my entire process. My guilt at taking his money was overridden by my refusal to be the first one to back down. Finally he looked away from me and surveyed the room. His one eyebrow furrowed as he slammed his cards down on the floor. I smiled at my victory, as I laid my cards down on the floor in front of the crowd surrounding us.
"Four, six, nine, five, king?" The eye turned murderous. "You have nothing!" Definitely murderous. The anger in his voice was a little much for a simple game of cards. If he really needed the money back that badly I'd give it back. It's not like I really wanted his stupid pennies.
"It's called bluffing" I explained, maybe my tone was a little too sarcastic, but it was too easy. Besides, I couldn't help mocking his anger, it was so uncalled for. I heard the snickering around me, and then it clicked.
"Blink you got beat by a girl!" Skittery was too simple-minded to do anything other than state the obvious.
"Girls should not be that good at poker" Jack said spitting in his hand, and extending it to me. I reciprocated the gesture, I'd known the newsies long enough to be aware of the meanings behind they're unhygienic acknowledgements of respect. I smiled; I wanted to brag. I ducked my head so my hair fell over my face, and shrugged my shoulders straightening my neck as if to say 'guess that's just me'.
"And you thought poker didn't take any skill, Race" Crutchy chimed in trying to divert the attention of the group.
"I was wrong" Race spoke quickly, raising one hand in the air, declaring his innocence.
"So you'll play poker now, Race?" I asked suggestively
"Not with you" My ego had grown to Spot Conlonesque proportions.
"So how's it feel to be beaten by a girl" I teased rocking to the side as Race pushed me playfully, saying "A drink girl, no less"
"Why don't you just shut the fuck up, Race" Blink yelled swatting at the pile and sending the small copper coins rolling across the dust covered floorboards.
"Hey, here you can have the money back" I said absently pushing about half the remaining pile toward Blink. Apparently that was the wrong thing to say.
"You can shut the fuck up too. Who let this girl in here?" He yelled again slamming his palms into the ground beneath him to push himself off the ground. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. As he stalked out of the room he emitted a cloud of smoke and profanity that surrounded him as his hard footsteps could be heard pounding on the staircase.
"What's his problem?" I asked taking my last swig of the whiskey bottle before I heard the angry succession of squeals that was going to be my cue to leave. I leaned in toward Crutchy who already had his hand extended. One by one we reduced our fingers pausing momentarily between our countdowns. When we reached fists I lightly punched him with mine, and he wrapped me in a hug saying goodbye.
"You're leaving?" Jack asked confused.
As if waiting for the perfect time, Callie appeared at the bottom of the staircase that led up to the private room she had just occupied. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, refusing to move with her when she walked. The disheveled look was capped by the loss of control of her emotions. She looked near tears, which meant I wasn't going to get another minute.
"Lia, we need to go" Her voice cracked poignantly, it was the kind of thing that used to evoke pity in me.
"Where's Mush?" She asked her voice straining the same way. That was Callie, rejected by one and searching for another. Sarah looked like she wanted to help her; she was one person who'd never understand.
"I don't know. Are you okay?" I asked my fake sympathy undetected.
"Never mind, I have to leave are you coming?" She asked vulnerably, as if I really had a choice. I rose from my spot on the floor wiggling my fingers behind me as I rudely walked out on my friends in tow of Callie. As I passed through the front door, consoling my 'best friend' I saw Blink throw his cigarette on the ground before entering his home and slamming the door behind him.