Crutchie sat on his bunk in the Lodging House, staring hopelessly at his bum leg. Outside the window, snow drifted slowly down.
For about the hundredth time that morning, he heaved a sigh. The other Newsies were out screwin' around in the snow, and as per usual, he couldn't join them. The cold was making his joints hurt and apparently it was icy.
Whenever the winters in the city got too bad, the other boys (Mainly Jack) would make Crutchie stay in the Lodging House so he wouldn't get hurt on the ice or freeze somewhere and work extra hard that day so they could all pitch in and get him some chow that night.
At least, that's what they told him they did. Crutchie knew very well that they sold all their papers in the morning then screwed around all afternoon. He had seen several Newsies running down the street tossing snow at each other already, and expected there to be an all-out war in front of the house before the end of the day.
"Aw come on, Davey! You is playin' dirty!" Les' voice drifted up from the street.
"Nonsense, i'm just older and faster..." David threw back.
"Let's see how well he talks with a pile of snow down his shirt!" Jack yelled. Laughter and whooping followed.
"Pfft. Whatever." Crutchie growled, wrapping his thin winter coat better around his shoulders. Maybe Specs or Race would bring him back a couple snowballs like they usually did, and he'd brighten his afternoon by dropping them out the window on unsuspecting bigwigs.
Eventually, the streets darkened and the boys traipsed in one by one, soaked from the snowball fights they'd had and being rowdy just like usual.
Crutchie ignored the sounds of merriment and blew out the candle he'd been reading by, rolling over on his bunk and covering himself with the blanket. He could hear Jack shouting excitedly in the stairwell and prayed he wouldn't come in.
A knock sounded at the door, followed by a slam as it flew open.
"Crutchie! Crutchie! You won't believe- Crutchie?" Jack peered around the deserted bunk room. Crutchie didn't move, but Jack's keen eyes managed to find him anyhow.
"Whassamatter? You sick?" Jack asked, sounding slightly worried. He came to stand by Crutchie's bunk.
"Either you talk to me, or I beat it outta you..." Jack growled after a moment of waiting. When Crutchie remained silent, Jack took off his cap and tossed it on one of the bunks.
"All right then. I'll go get us some chow. You better be ready to spill your beans when I get back."
Jack left, shutting the door with a snap. Crutchie sighed. He hated being at odds with Jack. But after being cooped up inside the Lodge House for almost a week, his anger was at a boiling point.
Jack waltzed back in a few minutes later, carrying two plates. He set them down on the bunk across from Crutchie's, then went to hit throw the light switch. The new electric lights in the Lodge House had been a gift to the Newsies from the Governor as part of his capaign, but Crutchie still preferred to use candles when he could.
Jack went to go sit down with his food and began to dig in. When Crutchie didn't stir, he sighed and put aside his plate.
"You wanna tell me what's up, Crutch?" He said quietly.
"The ceiling." Crutchie replied dully.
"Don't get smart with me, kid." Jack shot back.
"I'm sicka bein' here." Crutchie growled. Jack sighed.
"I know you gotta be goin' outta yer head, but it's slick out there. They had at least two crashes today."
"That didn't stop you." Crutchie spat bitterly.
"I know." Jack hung his head. The room was silent for a moment.
"Hey, lookie here. I found something today." Jack said, digging in his pocket. Crutchie resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew Jack was just trying to distract him.
"Look at this." Jack said. Crutchie humored him and rolled over to look.
Dangling from Jack's outstretched palm was a tiny gold cross and chain. Crutchie had never seen anything so rich up close in his life.
"Where'd you steal that, huh?" Crutchie asked, sitting up and reaching out for the necklace. Jack handed it over then came to sit next to Crutchy on the bed.
"Didn't steal. Some gal dropped it on the street. I picked it up in a handful of snow and nearly beaned Henry with it. Sure glad I saw the chain glinting, eh? Might sell it or give it to a pretty gir-"
"Can I have it?" Crutchie interrupted.
"You? What would ya do with it?" Jack chuckled.
"Give it to a girl." Crutchie said quickly, flushing a little.
"Well, I'll be. The Crutch has got himself a skirt! What's her name, Ilene I-love-a-limp?" He crowed.
Crutchie's anger flared. He closed his fist around the necklace and came around to sock Jack right in the jaw. Jack slammed his head into the edge of the bunk and fell to the floor.
"Stop treatin' me like i'm a crip, I don't need your pity!" Crutchie yelled. He grabbed his crutch from its customary place by the door and hauled himself down the stairs as quickly as he could before limping out into the street.
Already he could hear shouting from inside the Lodge House, so he trie to hobble quickly across the deserted street.
He made it halfway across the icy pavement without incident, then suddenly his good leg and crutch disappeared from underneath him and he fell hard on the bricks. Pain shot through his legs, hands and head and it was all he could do to drag himself the rest of the way across the street and collapse in a nearby alley
The bricks were freezing cold beneath him, and Crutchie realized that he couldn't stay out here forever. His head flopped over to look at the blazing lights of the Lodge House, now abandoned by Newsies out looking for him. He would wait a little longer until his body stopped throbbing, then go back inside.
On the icy wind that dusted him in snow, Crutchie heard the sounds of Jack and Davey calling his name.
Only then did he allow two small tears to track down the grime and snow on his face. They were frozen before he could even taste them.