Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies. You know the deal.
Summary: Racetrack has a difficult decision to make. Blink remembers why.
Reason: Just a muse of mine…
Choice and Reason
Racetrack sighed at the news.
"Thanks," he said to the Brooklyn newsie at the fire escape of the Manhattan Lodging House. His silence gave a cue to leave, and the boy slinked back to his own borough. A glance back proved that Racetrack was far more affected by the information than he originally thought, but there was no use getting further into it.
Racetrack's steps were nearly silent as he approached Kid Blink, lying in a bottom bunk with a hand, instead of a patch, covering his blind eye. His good eye stared at Race, begging for an explanation of his grim expression, but received no answer.
"Mush is going to think you've died," he told him, simply, and the half-blind boy pushed his body into a sitting position. While Racetrack led him past his bloodied friends towards the staircase, he remembered all that had happened those few days.
It was unbelievable. A war between newsies. For some reason, the Bronx had decided to take over New York. There was no real warning - it was only out of luck that a Brooklyn newsie overheard their plans while selling outside of his territory and informed Spot, who immediately formed an alliance with Manhattan and the other boroughs not already with the Bronx. The fight lasted only one day and night. It was not the casualties that made the Bronx pull out, as there weren't many at all, but a decreasing interest in having total responsibility of all the New York newsies.
Glimpses of the battle remained in Kid Blink's mind as he walked down the stairs, limping on one leg. He remembered Dutchy screaming "Look out, Blink!" as an enemy walked into the House holding a gun and firing straight at him. The bullet missed, thankfully, and put a hole in the wall instead of his head. The second bullet hit his leg, though, as he fought the villain outside of the Lodging House and knocked him out. How any of the Bronx newsies had gotten guns was a mystery to him, but he couldn't be worried with it any longer. He made his way up the fire escape and into the bunk room for Kloppman to mend his virtually useless leg. This was neutral territory, but everyone knew that wasn't the most encouraging statement. At any time the sentiment could be betrayed, and the wounded could be attacked again.
Racetrack sat Blink down on one of the bottom steps and he observed the damage. The battle was not supposed to go inside of the houses, but it had on a surprise attack. It was only a short time before all the newsies realized that there would be no space to continue a battle inside, and they began fighting in the streets instead. Blink watched as his friend moved towards a board in the floor and knocked on it 11 times, in the tune of the first lines of Medda's "High Times, Hard Times." He lifted the board from the floor, watched by various other newsies who had survived the battle without any serious injuries. Bumlets quickly moved in to assist him, and they had eventually lifted a great deal of boards from the floor, revealing a deep hole.
The first to appear was Sarah, who had been forced by Jack, her lover and David, her brother, to hide there. She lifted her younger brother, Les, out of the hole before her and was lifted out by Bumlets. Both immediately ran to David, who, other than a black eye, seemed fine. Three more children were lifted out. Blink could not see them until they were far from the hole, as Bumlets and Racetrack had turned their backs in a direction that blocked Blink's view. He watched as Crutchy, Snipeshooter, Tumbler and Boots appeared, running out into the crowd. Only then did he see how broken the newsies appeared.
There was Dutchy without Specs, Itey without Snitch, Bumlets without Pie Eater. Tumbler searched the entire crowd, but could not find Skittery, his role model, and instead was picked up by Snoddy, who seemed devastated. Swifty, bloodied and bruised but refusing to be treated, looked empty without Jake by his side. Blink knew that most of the missing newsies would be fine, as they were still alive in the bunk room, but he could not help feeling that, for the moment, the community had been cut in half.
Finally he saw his own sidekick appear from the hole. Mush had been left down there to take care of the young newsies on Blink's own request. At first Mush refused, arguing that Crutchy could do that, who had also been forced down there for his inability to fight, but he was soon hidden under the floorboards away from battle. Blink knew that his friend could never have the ability to really hurt anybody, which was what this mission almost exclusively called for.
Mush did not look up. Blink realized quickly that Mush must have thought him dead, being able to hear the entire length of the battle spent in the Lodging House. He remembered Dutchy's warning. Unable to stand, and with a voice too sore to speak loudly enough, he waited for Racetrack to lead Mush over to him. The wait led to more memories.
He remembered Mush's tears as he got closer to the hole, his pleas to stay above the ground to be with his friend. Blink remembered how long it took to calm him down, how he had to hold the other boy still for so long as he stopped pushing away from safety. He waved goodbye as the floorboards covered him from sight, and covered Mush with ignorance.
Finally Mush looked up. Their eyes instantly met. It seemed like forever, but Mush and Blink were finally reunited, arms surrounding each other as Mush dispelled himself for being so naïve.
"I though it had hit you…I thought you were dead. I heard you yell! I should have known-"
"But you didn't." It was an apology.
There was a silence for a long time, until Racetrack began moving back up the stairs to continue helping the wounded. He was stopped by Snoddy's puzzled words.
"Race, why was a Brooklyn newsie just here?"
Racetrack, half way up the stairs, looked over the railing.
"It'll tell you later. You need the time."
Blink was surprised at the honesty. Sure, Racetrack hadn't given any information, but he hadn't lied about how serious it was, either.
"We have time," Snoddy replied. "We want to know."
"And you will. Just not right now, okay?"
They were all surprised now. It had to be big. More silence and needy stares were answered.
"Are you sure?" Racetrack asked them. They all nodded. Slowly, Racetrack walked back down the stairs and stood in front of his friends. He ripped off a stray fingernail as he spoke.
"They just found them. Together. They're dead."
There was no need for an explanation. Two great leaders had just been lost. Jack Kelly and Spot Conlon were dead.
There were no tears. Nods of understanding, but no tears. Sighs of exasperation, but no tears. Hugs of comfort, but again, no real tears.
Racetrack's grim look told the older newsies that there was much more to say, and the younger ones were immediately sent into another room. They all got comfortable as Racetrack pulled out a chair to sit in as he spoke. He took a deep breath before beginning.
"Well…you all know that Jack and Spot had to write down the names of who would be next in line to lead their boroughs," he told them, and continued once they had all nodded their understanding. "Jack wrote down five names on his. I don't know if it'll surprise anybody, but I was the first name on it."
This went without saying. The newsies all knew that Racetrack was always at Jack's right hand.
"The other names were-"
"Why do we need the other names?" It was Swifty who asked.
"That's what I'm saying," Racetrack answered. It wasn't defensive, it was only honest. He continued. "The next names were Blink, Snitch-" Itey gulped here, "-Dutchy and Jake."
There was some surprise that Jake was on the list. David looked mildly surprised that he wasn't.
"Okay…so you're our leader, right?" Mush asked Racetrack.
"That's the problem."
"You don't want to be?" Dutchy asked this, surprised.
"I don't know. It's just- and don't interrupt me here," this was said to Swifty, "- Spot's list."
He paused.
"Spot's list only had one name on it. It was me." Silence.
"Oh my god…" Blink whispered.
"That doesn't make any sense, though," David stated the obvious. "You're a Manhattan newsie."
"I know that," Racetrack told him. "But I was the only name there."
"Are you sure there's only one Racetrack?" Sarah asked. It wasn't as pointless a question as it seemed at first, but Racetrack still replied to her.
"Well, Brooklyn told me special, so I doubt it. Anyways, I'm going back upstairs." He began making his way.
"Race-" Mush called him back. He turned back. "What about…what about their bodies?"
"Brooklyn took care of them."
Kloppman had handled all the legal issues with the police. No civilians were hurt, so they hadn't cared. They just saw it as a riot between children, and didn't take any of the actual damage seriously. Some Bronx newsies were arrested for having guns, but everyone knew that they would be let out soon.
Few newsies had died. The only Manhattan newsies from this Lodging House to pass on were Skittery, Specs, Snitch, and Jake, who had had not been seen dead, although was last seen on Bronx territory. His bravery had finally shined through, and he had been punished for it. A few other newsies from all other Houses were missing, from both Brooklyn and Manhattan, but it was assumed that they would turn up soon enough.
A funeral was planned. Not just a funeral, but a meeting. It was to be the next morning, and by then Racetrack had to have decided which post he was going to accept: Leader of Manhattan, or Leader of Brooklyn. It was to be held in Brooklyn; in an abandoned house the newsies had found to be safe from the police.
Racetrack hadn't slept. The rest had, falling asleep instantly once in their bunks. He didn't know how they could sleep at all, with the smell of their injuries surrounding them. He spent the night clearing out the main room, trying to make things look somewhat normal. Kloppman was out…he had offered to take the bodies to a local church, and none of them were going to stop him.
This wasn't why Racetrack remained awake, though. He had a very unique decision to make. Would he become the Leader of Manhattan, where his loyalties have always truly lied, or wouldn't he? It seemed appropriate, but he knew his acceptance of that post would send Brooklyn into total anarchy, a sentiment he couldn't imagine. It could hurt both territories. Still: if he became Leader of Brooklyn, Manhattan could turn against them, causing the same thing. Not only that, but he could lose friends.
He wondered why Spot would do that to him. He knew, he must have. It was natural that Jack would place Racetrack at the top of his list, and anyone who knew him had to know that. Was it Spot's final trick? Or maybe it was a joke to only him, under the belief that he would survive this battle. Perhaps he had underestimated what would happen, and didn't think anybody would get hurt.
"Idiot!" Racetrack sneered under his breath.
"Who?"
Kid Blink had been standing against the railing, watching Racetrack as he cleaned miserably. It didn't seem appropriate to say anything to him until that moment, so he had stayed silent. Besides, he didn't know what he really wanted to say, anyway.
"Nobody." Racetrack started towards the stairs. "I'm going to go to bed now. You should too."
"Can't sleep. I'll be surprised if you can…all the kids are up crying."
Blink made his way down to the stairs, limping as he went, and sat in the nearest seat, leaning his fists onto the table.
"While you're here, you might as well help out," Race said to him. Blink motioned to his injured leg.
"I'm crippled, I can't work," he laughed, and pushed out the chair opposite him. Racetrack recognized the invitation and sat down, trying not to relax too much.
"How bad are the kids?"
"Real bad. Mush is trying to help, but he's not doing too great either." At the mention of Mush Blink hung his head down into his attached hands.
"Hey, you okay?" Race asked.
"Yeah. I just feel really bad…you know?"
"There was nothing you could do."
"I know…but I can't imagine how I'd feel down there. Like, if I thought Mush had died, and was down in a hole for so long. If I couldn't help him." Blink pulled off his patch, ignoring the twitch from Racetrack, and fiddled with it between his fingers. The soft leather soothed him. Racetrack began standing up to leave, but Blink quickly placed the patch back on. He back-tracked the conversation.
"Spot, yeah?"
Racetrack stopped.
"Yeah."
"You realize this is the greatest thing he's ever done, right?"
Racetrack had no reply to this. Spot left him with a potentially deadly decision, and nothing he could think of could make it a positive one. He glared at Blink, hoping he didn't mean great in the way he thought he did. Sitting down, he replied:
"What are you talking about?"
"You disagree?"
"Of course I disagree!" Racetrack surprised Blink with his volume. "You just know that this was his final win, and he knew it."
Blink smiled.
"What are you grinning at?"
"Race, who did you say was second on Jack's list?"
"You, idiot. Geez, now I have to take Manhattan, otherwise you'll cut it into pieces."
"Race…think about it. You and I are friends, right?"
"I have a feeling we won't be after this."
"Just hang on a second and listen to me."
Racetrack leaned back in his seat and got comfortable. It was going to be a long night.
"You and I are friends. We want the best for each other. I want to best for you, and you want the best for me."
"Look, Blink, I know where you're going. You're wrong."
"Fine. Tell me where I'm going."
"Look, maybe you think that I'll take Brooklyn, you'll take Manhattan, and everything else will be all happiness and butterflies."
"That's exactly what I think."
Racetrack sighed loudly. He didn't want to sound pessimistic, but that was getting very difficult.
"Blink…it won't work. Maybe you and I will get along, but that doesn't mean the Burroughs will. Manhattan and Brooklyn never worked together until the Strike, then this. But neither was because we were friends, it was because we needed each other. If I head Brooklyn, Manhattan will turn against us."
"I won't let that happen-"
"You won't have a choice! Did you see their reactions, Blink? They want me to stay in Manhattan, and they won't be happy if I don't."
"Why not?"
"Because that what Jack would do-"
"This is what Jack wanted."
Silence.
"How can you say that? He wanted to die? He wanted the burroughs to go to war?"
"No. He wanted exactly what Spot wanted. To be allies."
"How could you know what they wanted?"
Blink shifted position in his seat and leaned over the table to Racetrack. "Race…I'm going to tell you something. Whether you believe me or not is your choice - that's why Spot only wrote you down - but I want you to listen to my reasoning."
"I'm listening."
"Look, a lot happened before the fight got to the Lodging House, and a lot happened after it did. I was just outside the Bronx when they started marching over here. I had been for a few hours. I don't actually know what I was trying to do…whether I was listening in or what, but I was there. About an hour in, Jake was there, too."
"That's when he got killed, right?"
"No. Not even close. First he told me something…that's what I'm telling you."
Racetrack stood up, annoyed.
"I don't have time for this-"
"Race, you said you'd listen!" Blink's voice was silent yet harsh, and Race sat back down.
"Jake saw it happen."
"Saw what happen?"
"He saw them die. And he saw a lot before that, too." Blink took off his eye patch again. Racetrack centered his eyes on the patch rather than Blink's eye as he played with it.
"He was weaving his way through the alleys, trying to make it to the Bronx when he saw them - together - fighting a Bronx newsie. The newsie got away and started running back to the Bronx. Before he left, though, he shot at Spot and dropped his gun. It hit Spot right in the gut, Jake said."
"Was he sure?"
"Yeah. He was."
"Keep going."
"Jack went straight to Spot. He took off his vest and put it over the gun wound. Spot was telling him something."
"Did Jake hear what he was saying?" Racetrack was amazed. Brooklyn had mentioned Spot having Jack's vest covering a gun wound.
"Some of it, he said. He said that Spot took out a piece of paper and gave it to Jack. Jack looked at it and told Spot that it wouldn't work. That you were at the top of his list. He said that he didn't want to hurt you. Spot told him that he wouldn't. Apparently, Jack told Spot that when he got back to the Lodging House he'd change his list, and put me at the top instead. Spot told him he wouldn't get back to the Lodging House. He stayed there."
Past became present in Blink's mind as telling the story forced him to relive it…
"Jake, are you crazy! Why would Spot do that…why couldn't Jack change the list?"
"That's what I'm trying to tell you. Please…there's not a lot of time. You have to know now."
"Why now?"
"Please, just listen to me?"
The look in Jake's eyes made Kid Blink instantly silent as he listened.
"Okay…Jack leaned over Spot and picked him up. He was holding him…right there, like a baby. Spot begged him not to have his list changed, that everything would go wrong if he did."
Then, in Jake's eyes, everything became clear again…
"Spot, what are you talking about?" Jack was nearly crying. Spot already had.
"Kelly, you listen to me, alright? Damn, this hurts like hell…"
Spot's voice trailed off at this, but he continued speaking.
"You and I have never been real good friends, now have we, Jack?"
"No," Jack smiled. "We tried, but no, we haven't been."
"Right. Think of what that's done to our boroughs." Spot's hand moved to Jack's vest and started pushing on it harder, grimacing at the pain. "Jack, it's ruined them. We can't have that anymore…we can't hate each other anymore, don't you see?"
"Yeah, I do."
Spot smiled, surprised that Jack had agreed with him so quickly.
"Okay. Jack, you have Racetrack at the top of your list. I have him as the only kid on my list-"
"He's hardly a kid, Spot."
"You know what I mean…"
"Sorry. Keep going…hurry."
"Who's next on your list?"
"Kid Blink."
"They good friends?"
"Yeah. Real good."
"Now do you see what I'm saying?"
Jack nearly laughed through his newly shed tears.
"I guess there is a conscience under there, eh Spot?"
Spot suddenly grabbed one of Jack's hands.
"Daniel."
"What?"
"That's my real name. Daniel Peaks."
"Okay."
Spot's voice was nearly silent. He drew short, shallow breaths as he continued his final speech.
"Jack…Francis…" Jack twitched a bit at this, "You're not going to make it back. You know that?"
Jack was shivering along with Spot. "I know."
"They're after us most…we're not going to be okay…"
"Yeah."
"Keep those lists safe…okay. Make sure they don't get ruined."
"I will."
"You know what I mean, right? You know I'm talking about blood, right?"
Again, Jack shivered.
"I know."
"Frances, this has to work. Brooklyn and Manhattan can't go on like they are now, do you understand?"
"I understand."
"You sure?"
"Yeah…yeah, Spot-" Jack shook his head. "Daniel."
"You're a good guy…" Spot coughed.
"You are too…too bad we could never really relate to each other. Be friends or something."
Spot laughed painfully.
"Maybe in hell?"
"Maybe in hell."
Spot died soon. Jake, who had seen it all, couldn't help but stare. He watched with interest as Jack laid Spot on the ground. He watched him brush the hairs off his forehead and place a kiss of respect there, still holding onto one hand.
"Why did this all have to be so screwed up?"
He let go of the hand, and walked slowly towards the gun which had been dropped only a few minutes before. Jack pulled both lists from his pocket. He placed them in the front pocket of his pants, making sure a corner was visibly hanging out. Picking up the gun, he moved back to Spot. Suddenly, he spoke.
"Jake."
Jake didn't know what to say. How could Jack have known he was there? He didn't think he had seen him. Jake walked out from the alley and made himself visible to Jack. He didn't advance.
"Make sure they know…make sure at least Blink knows."
Jake nodded.
"You've always been real good, Jake. Real brave."
Jake hung his head, feeling tears starting. He wondered why Jack was telling him this. He didn't think it was true.
"Let's give these jerks something to remember us by, huh?"
Jack turned straight to Jake. The look on his face made it clear to Jake that it was time to go. He looked at Jack one more time and ran as fast as he could. As far as he ran, though, it wasn't far enough to block out the sound. Eventually he stopped running, and remembered what Jack had told him. "Make sure at least Blink knows." Jake decided that Blink would be near the Bronx, probably about to do something heroic.
Blink was exactly where he thought he would be, hiding out just outside of the Bronx. He told him the entire story, quickly realizing that making Blink believe him would be a challenge. He divulged the entire story, though, leaving out only a few parts. The parts where Spot told his real name, where Jack kissed him, where Jack doubted, and where Jack spoke to him, telling him how brave he was.
"So…they're dead?"
"Yeah."
"And you're telling me that Jack and Spot both have Race's name at the top of their lists?"
"Yes."
"That can't be true, Jake. Jack wouldn't do something like that to Racetrack. He must have changed the list."
Jake frowned.
"I don't think he did."
Blink was about to retort when he heard voices nearby. He smiled. This was his chance to mess up some guys from the Bronx for what they may have done. For what they were doing, too. Standing, he made his way to the edge of the alley they were in. Jake followed.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting some revenge."
"No!"
Blink jumped. He pushed Jake against a wall.
"What are you thinking? They'll hear you, idiot!" Jake was instantly calm.
"I'm sorry."
He continued:
"You can't go after them…you have to get back to the Lodging House. You can't get hurt."
Blink's face stopped Jake.
"Listen," he said.
There was a group of Bronx newsies, talking about what they'd do when they got to Manhattan. Their ideas made Blink shiver. He let Jake off the wall.
"I have to stop them," he whispered.
"You need to get back."
"Look, I have to-"
"I'll do it."
Blink stopped instantly.
"What?"
"I'll get them." There was a cocking of a gun. "I'll stop them."
"Jake-"
Jack's words flew through Jake's mind.
"Just get back safe. Please?"
Blink couldn't believe it. Jake could die. And it could be for something that wasn't even true. Perhaps he had imagined everything Spot and Jack had said. No, Blink thought. Jake is smarter than that.
"Go now," Jake told him. Blink couldn't help notice how heroic he looked.
"Good luck," he replied, and ran.
Kid Blink ended the story there.
"I don't think I really believed it until you told us about the lists."
"And you do now?"
"Definitely."
Racetrack stayed silent for a couple of minutes. Blink waited patiently as he decided on what to say next.
"So…you're saying that Spot and Jack wanted this?"
"Yes, I am."
"What am I supposed to do, then?"
Blink stood up silently, and began walking up the staircase back to the bunk room. It had become silent…he knew that all the kids were asleep. Turning back, he spoke to Race.
"That's for you to decide…but I think you know what to do."
Racetrack stayed sitting for a long time, considering both his options, deciding whether or not Blink's story was true. Finally, in what was actually early morning, he went up to the bunkroom. He walked by every single bed, making sure all the boys were asleep and alright.
He checked the children first. Boots was beside Mush, who seemed to be unconsciously petting his hair. Tumbler was in Skittery's bed, clinging onto the blanket for dear life. Racetrack nearly tripped over Snoddy, who was leaning against the bunk by the boy's head. Racetrack had known for a long time that Tumbler was actually Skittery's younger brother, and so did Snoddy, but none of them had dared tell Tumbler. They all knew that Skittery would get himself into trouble at some point, and didn't want Tumbler to become too attached to him. Snipeshooter was in his usual bed beside Racetrack's, and Race found himself staring when he saw David and Les still in the Lodging House, in Jack's bed. Sarah, he knew, had gone home earlier, escorted by him.
There were empty beds. One was particularly heartbreaking: Itey's. He and Snitch had shared a bed since they first came to the Lodging House together, nothing but eight year old cousins. Now Itey was alone in the top bunk, and hand by his chin where Snitch's foot used to rest.
Swifty was in his own bed, but Racetrack recognized the pillow he was using as Jake's. It was damp.
Dutchy had his knees curled up to his chest. Racetrack remembered something he had told him in confidentiality earlier:
"I guess I'm not too scared for him. I think - I know he was with Skittery. They're really good friends. They'll be okay together."
"You think they're alive?" Racetrack had asked.
"Does it matter?"
Bumlets was in a bed beside Pie Eater's, who, although he was still a little shaken up, would be fine with some rest.
Crutchy was on his own, sound asleep. Not having been part of battle, he had no bruises, but the look on his face was frightening.
How could he leave his friends?
Then there was Blink, in the bunk above Racetrack. His eyes were closed, but Race saw him stroking his eye patch between his fingers. Then, when he began moving into his bed, Blink opened his eyes. After turning his gaze to Mush as if to check if he was still there, he looked straight at Racetrack. Racetrack's face turned to stone. He didn't want Blink to see what his decision was.
"Great poker face," Blink mouthed.
"I've been working on it," Race mouthed back before he fell into his own bed. Racetrack heard Blink roll over to Mush's direction and lay down. It wasn't long before he was asleep.
The morning came all too quickly, and Racetrack didn't bother to make an extra effort to look nice. In fact, none of the newsies did. After the regular morning ritual of a face wash and shave, they all made their way down the Brooklyn Bridge to the funeral. There must have been two hundred newsies there, and not only from Brooklyn and Manhattan.
The funeral was led by Turner, the newsie who had visited Racetrack the day before. It began with a roll call. Most of the newsies were there, and the ones that weren't were assumed dead. When he got half-way through the list, though, there was a huge surprise:
"Skittery!" Turner called. There was no answer. Racetrack looked to Snoddy, who had Tumbler at his chest. It looked as if the young boy had fallen asleep, but Racetrack could see the light shining against his eyes.
"Skittery!" he called again, and wrote down missing on the list.
"Smelter!"
"Dead."
"Smiles!"
"Here."
"Snipeshooter!"
"Here."
"Snitch!"
"Dead," Racetrack told him quietly, as he was at the front of the mob.
"Found?"
"Yeah."
"Specs!"
Dutchy, also near the front, muttered, "Missing," but Turner didn't hear him.
"Specs!"
Dutchy was about to yell his status again, when a voice rang out through the crowd.
"I'm here!"
The newsies parted into a path through which Specs ran. Both Dutchy and Snoddy turned, each utterly bewildered. Specs finally made his way to the front of the crowd. He was bloody and his clothes were torn, but he looked as if he would be alright. There was no sign of Skittery. Specs yelled up to Turner:
"The Bronx are releasing their hostages now-"
"The Bronx took hostages!?" Turner yelled. The entire crowd was talking then. After regaining the silence, Specs continued.
"A couple…mostly just some injured people they found. They're actually treating some right now. They say it's a peace offering."
"Roster, Pins, Wells! Go to the Bronx and bring them here," Turner called. The chosen newsies ran off in the direction of the Bronx. He whispered a few things to Specs, who nodded and backed up. The role call was continued. Dutchy stared at Specs, who finally noticed. He gave a sad smile and moved towards Snoddy.
"He's going to be okay, I think. I didn't want to leave him, but I had to come tell everybody."
Tumbler lifted his head from Snoddy's shoulder and stared at Specs.
"Skittery is okay?"
"Yeah, kid, he's okay."
"Thanks," Snoddy said to Specs. Specs nodded and turned his head to Dutchy. He approached him quietly. There was a short hug.
"I knew you were okay."
"I thought you would."
Racetrack couldn't help smiling. There were fewer casualties than originally thought. Most of the hostages were from Brooklyn, but that take away the glee everybody felt that they would be okay.
"I'd like to take a moment to pay respect to our fallen friends, as well as two leaders: Jack Kelly and Spot Conlon."
The funeral continued, and before Racetrack knew it, it was his turn to rise up on the make-shift stage and announce his decided post. He spoke very calmly as the crowd awaited his decision.
"As you know, yesterday I was given a choice. Jack Kelly and Spot Conlon both created a list of newsies who would take over for them if they ever couldn't lead our boroughs anymore. Jack wrote five names on his list. Spot wrote only one. I was at the top of both lists."
There was no surprise. All of the newsies already knew this.
"This was very important. I would have to decide whether or not to stay in Manhattan, where my loyalties have always lied, or switch to lead Brooklyn, who I have always had the deepest of respect for. At first it seemed as if I was merely cornered: I would have to choose Brooklyn, otherwise it would fall to pieces. But I figured that if I did choose it, Manhattan wouldn't be too happy, and there would be fights between us. I couldn't decide.
"Then, to my great surprise, a good friend told me something which has shaped my decision today."
Blink smiled and gave Mush, who was beside him, a tiny punch in the arm. Mush followed suit.
"There was a very brave newsie named Jake, who happened to see Jack Kelly and Spot Conlon at their final moments. Spot had forced Jack not to make any changes to his list - it was, I suppose, his last request - and then gave Jack his list. Jack protested until Spot told him what was going on.
"The second newsie on Jack's list was Kid Blink, a very, very good friend of mine. Jack Kelly and Spot Conlon could never be friends. They tried (I should know), but could never keep it together for long. I think we all know full well that that is what caused the tension between Brooklyn and Manhattan. But Blink and I are different.
"Spot and Jack wanted Brooklyn and Manhattan to have more than an alliance, but a strong friendship. That's something," Racetrack smiled at Blink, "that I have with Manhattan's new leader."
There was total silence. Racetrack looked straight at the crowd.
"I have decided that I will become the new leader of Brooklyn. Kid Blink will be the leader of Manhattan. Unless, of course, he has any objections?"
Blink pushed himself onto the platform with Racetrack. He held out his hand.
"None at all."
Racetrack pulled him into a hug.
"Blink!" a voice at the back of the crowd was heard. The three Brooklyn newsies had returned from the Bronx. Behind them stood three Brooklyn newsies and the young man who was speaking.
Blink called Jake onto the platform.
"Thank you so much," Jake told him, the lack of sleep apparent in his face.
"Thank you," Blink replied.
"Race," Jake turned to him. Racetrack looked baffled at his survival. "You did the right thing."
"Thanks," Race whispered, smiling.
He had the crowd celebrate Jake's bravery. There was cheering from the entire crowd. Jake jumped from the platform into a small lump of the crowd where Swifty was standing. Swifty laughed and they shook hands, the shake quickly becoming a thankful hug.
Then, for the first time, Manhattan and Brooklyn seemed to truly agree on something:
They would be friends for a long time.