A/N: Written for the "Newsies Pape Selling Competition". Circulation 2 – Colors. Prompts: Red – Emotion: Anger, Green – Emotion: Delight; Words: 2017
This story is loosely based off the movie version. It is actually Snyder's point of view for a portion of my other story – Providing Refuge. Warning: abuse of a child. Disclaimer – I don't own Newsies or any of the characters.
Warden Snyder sat in his office reviewing his account sheets. He definitely wasn't happy about what he was seeing. He still had money coming in but it was no where near what it could be. Apparently he was going to need to do some more "recruiting". When he first took this job as warden of the Refuge, he was told he could expect to get about $20 a week. He would receive $2 for each kid and generally there were about 10 kids being held in the Refuge each week. By the time expenses were taken out of that he would only be looking at about a $15 profit each week. That was plenty to survive on, but most men with a marketable trade made at least that much. If he wanted to achieve his American dream of becoming a prominent business man and making a name for himself, he would need to make much more than a lowly carpenter.
Snyder quickly realized the potential for making a lot more money as he was given a tour of the Refuge. By bringing in more kids and cutting out unnecessary costs, he could double the profits in no time. Plus, most of the kids in the Refuge were orphans with nobody to check up on them. There was no way anyone would care if these troublemakers suffered a bit while serving out their time. Plus, if he added time to their sentence for any misdeed, each kid's stay would be greatly extended which just meant more money in his pocket.
Just a few short months after accepting the job, Snyder had managed to cut out 50% of the expenses and bring in more kids which resulted in almost doubling his profit. Nobody seemed to care that the kids were given half portions for each meal and no longer received any meat. By serving the kids porridge, rice, beans, bread and a few wilted vegetables on occasion, Snyder was able to put a lot more of the money directly into his pocket.
Now, looking at his dwindling profit, Snyder began to contemplate other cuts he could make. He decided that tomorrow he would send out a couple of the guards to arrest some more boys. That would help bring in some more money. His mood darkened even more as he thought of Sullivan – the troublesome kid who had caused a lot of this financial disaster. Years ago, Sullivan had just been a sniveling little kid that had been arrested for stealing some food. Unfortunately, he had quickly become a little troublemaker and had even been a part of the escape plan with two other boys. Luckily Sullivan had been caught before fully getting away, but Snyder still blamed him for the other two boys escaping. He had to find three new kids to bring in just to make up for those two escaping. The problem was that not only does he lose the $2 per week per kid, but he is also fined $1 per week per kid that escaped. He had his guards out searching for those two for weeks but they never were able to catch them. Not long after, Sullivan had also escaped and now Snyder was being fined $3 a week.
The more he thought about Sullivan, the more furious he got. Swiping his account books off his desk in frustration, Snyder jumped up and stormed out of his office. It wasn't just the lost money that made him furious, it was the fact that the prominent men he was trying to align himself with were aware of these escapes and made snide remarks to him about letting three orphan boys get the best of him. How was he supposed to make a name for himself if he was constantly being reminded of his failures?
Snyder called for his carriage and climbed in when it arrived at the front doors of the Refuge. He decided getting some fresh air would do him some good and maybe he could snatch a kid or two on his way back. That would definitely help his mood.
After riding through the city for a while, he decided to stop in and see his friend Pullitzer and find out any information he could about the newsie strike. He was pretty certain that the boy leading the strike who went by the name of Jack Kelly was actually Francis Sullivan – the boy who had caused all of his current problems. Maybe if he worked with Pullitzer they could come up with a way to end the strike and get Sullivan back to the Refuge where he belonged.
A couple weeks later and Snyder was almost dancing a jig he was so excited. Tonight was the night he would have Sullivan back in his grasp. After much waiting it was finally time to crash the newsies' rally and arrest Sullivan. He showed up before the cops and snuck into the theater. It wasn't long before his eyes found Sullivan. He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face at the sight of Sullivan looking so happy and knowing that was soon to change.
Unfortunately, Sullivan was knocked out during his capture so Snyder didn't have the pleasure of walking him out in chains. But when he got to court the next morning to speak to the judge about him, it caused him immense pleasure to see Sullivan looking so down and being led up to the judge in chains. With just a couple of timely comments to the judge, Snyder was able to take control of Sullivan and drag him back to the Refuge with him. Shoving the boy into solitary and slamming the door on him was hugely satisfying. He knew it would be almost therapeutic when he got a chance to take out the rest of his frustration on the boy's flesh. His fingers practically twitched with excitement with the thought of using his belt on the boy once again. However, he had promised Pullitzer to wait until after he had been able to present Sullivan with his offer of Santa Fe before doing anything to the boy.
Later that night, as he watched Sullivan running off with that other troublesome boy who was helping lead the strike, Snyder's mood darkened. He couldn't believe he had let Pullitzer talk him into letting the boy come without chains and without a fresh beating. He chased after his guards and couldn't believe the site of the boy sitting with his back against the wall in the nearby alley. He was relieved the boy hadn't gotten far but angry that they were forced to chase after him once again.
"Stay right there, boy. Don't even think about trying to run again." One of the guards yelled out.
"What's it look like I'm doin'?" Sullivan called back in a sarcastic voice. Snyder couldn't wait to get his hands on the boy and shake some of that sarcasm out of him.
"Lay down on your face and put your hands behind your head," another one of the guards yelled.
"What, ya afraid of one defenseless boy?" Sullivan laughed at them but then did as he was told.
Snyder walked up to him after the boy's wrists had been cuffed behind him and helped lift him to his feet. As soon as the boy was standing, Snyder punched him in the gut – allowing himself to blow off a little of his steam. "You miss me boy?" he asked with grin.
"Ya betta believe it, warden" the boy said as he straightened himself a bit. Snyder through another punch at him for good measure and then told him "You better keep that mouth of yours shut, boy. I'm not in the mood for any of your antics tonight."
When they arrived back at the Refuge, Snyder took great pleasure in snapping heavy leg irons and wrist irons on the boy. It was even more enjoyable when he could see the despair start to show in the boy's eyes. He decided to let the boy sit in solitary and anticipate his punishment for a while. He figured it was late and he would get some good rest before taking a belt to the boy.
The next morning Snyder opened the door to the solitary cell and was irked to find the boy had actually been able to fall asleep. He quickly walked to the boy and slapped him to wake him up. Sullivan jerked awake and sat up. "Good, you're awake now" Sullivan laughed. "It's time for you to receive your punishment for running away." The boy's face went pale and Snyder struggled to keep the grin off his face.
"Stand up, shirt off" he barked at the boy. Apparently the boy still had a bit of a stubborn streak as he didn't move very quickly. "Do I need to call a guard in here?" Snyder asked. That got the boy moving and he took his shirt off while glaring at the warden.
"Place your hands on the bench" Snyder told the boy. While the boy did as he was told, Snyder gleefully took his belt off. Holding the belt in his hand, he quickly swung it around and slammed it down onto the boys bare back. He heard a gasp and saw the boy twitch. Letting the belt come crashing down again and again, he thought about all the lost money and all the headache this boy had caused him. After about twenty lashes he stopped. His arm was tired and he felt himself let go of the last of anger and frustration. He heard the boy groaning and was quite happy to know that the boy was finally getting what he deserved.
As the boy began to stand up, Snyder decided that he needed to get a little more enjoyment before ending this punishment. He had been too angry at the start to really get the full benefit. "You don't think you're getting off that easy do you?" he said to the boy.
"What, ya think that were easy?" the boy sneered back at him. Snyder laid two more quick lashes onto the boy's back and decided the boy definitely deserved a harsher punishment if he was still talking back.
"If I were you, I would keep such comments to myself. You are in enough trouble as it is." Snyder accented his statement with a powerful lash of the belt. "I'm only halfway done. However, you seem to be having difficulties holding still so we are going to finish this in my office." Snyder figured that the walk to the office would give his arm a break and he could tie the boy down so he didn't move around quite so much.
When they got to his office he had the boy drape himself over the desk and then tied his leg irons and wrist irons together and pulled them tight under the desk so he couldn't move. He could tell the strain on the boys back was quite painful and once again allowed himself a small moment to enjoy the knowledge that the boy was finally paying for all his troubles.
Once again he lashed the belt down across the boy's back. The lashes were now overlapping previous ones and the boy was letting out screams of pain when the belt hit particularly tender spots. Too soon, he realized he had to quit. His arm was beginning to throb and the boy's back was littered with bruises and small gashes where the belt buckle occasionally bit into it. He untied the boy and practically dragged him back to his cell. He slammed the door shut and slowly walked back to his office.
As he sat down at his desk, he took great delight in making the new marks in his account book. He was now up an additional $2 a week and would no longer be receiving the fine from Sullivan escaping. Now if only he could convince the boy to help him recapture his two friends that had escaped a few years ago.