Chapter 1
"Alex, get up!" The teen threw his hand into the air, and waved it, letting the caller know he was up.
"I'm up, Jack, I'm up. Gimme da time to get outta dis bed!" he called, rolling onto his back. Alex sat up and slammed his head into the bunk above him. "Ow! Who put dis bunk here?" he asked, clutching his head.
"Ha. Dat's always been dere, Alex," another boy said.
"Shush, you. I don't need anudda newsie pickin on me cause I'se be different," Alex said, and went to change his clothes. "Ey, Jack, you got me money?" Alex asked.
"Yeah, Alex, here ye go…" Jack pulled out a couple coins and handed em to Alex. Alex began to pass another boy, this one's name Crutchy, and he said, "Mornin, Emma…"
"Shhh…"
"Sorry." Alex walked outta the building and stood in a line behind Jack. Alex pulled out a coin that Jack had handed him, and held it at an angle where, when the light hit it just right, it was really pretty. He'd been doin that for a while.
"Next!"
"Hey, dere, Mr. Weasel. Fifty papes, please," Alex said, slamming the coin down on the counter.
"Alex, I've told you, too. It's Weisel. Fifty papes! Next!" Mr. Weisel said.
"See ya, Mr. Weasel." Alex plopped down next to Jack, and took a look at the headline.
"Baby born wit two heads…must be from Brooklyn," Racetrack said, moving the cigar around between his fingers. Alex rolled his eyes, and thought to himself, Don't make fun a Brooklyn, Race.
"There are only 19 papers here…"
"Are you accusin' a liein, kid?" Alex turned around and saw a new newsie in front of Mr. Weisel. Jack hopped up, and went over, then counted the papes.
"Nineteen. Honest mistake, d'o. Morris here couldn't count to twenty wit' his shoes on," he said. Alex laughed a bit. "Fifty more papes for my pal here," Jack said, slapping down a coin.
"Oh, no, I don't want any more papers…"
"Sure you do, every newsie want more papes."
"Well I don'…"
"What're you, stupid?" Race asked.
Alex walked out and sat on the roof of the building where he slept. Crutchy made his way up to talk to him.
"Hey, Emma."
"Crutchy…"
"Don' worry, no ones around. I checked," he said, and hobbled over to Alex at the edge of the roof. He sighed. "You alright?" he asked.
"I dunno, Crutchy. I miss home, and my papa…"
"Den go home," he said.
"But I can't. If I leave here and go see him, I won't be able to come back. But, I like it here. I have so many friends. The only time I'd be able to see yas is if I get to watch yas get tossed into da refuge," he said.
"Emily, don't think that way. We's don't get tossed into da refuge, only if we's get caught. And, we's won't get caught, as long as we's got Jack as our leadah…"
"I know dat, Crutchy…And, if at all possible, I'd do everything in my powah to keep yas safe," Emily said.
"Alex?" She turned, and saw Jack. "Hey, its time for bed. Come on, Crutchy, I'se got Boots here to help yas back down. I'se gots to talk to Alex." Crutchy headed over to Boots, and waved to Alex. "Hey, Alex. I'se been seein you up here lately. What do ya do up here?" he asked.
"Jack, if I told you something, promise you won't get mad?" Emily asked.
"Yeah. Of course, you's be my pal, remembah?" Emily nodded.
"I'm not who you think I am…"
"Who are you, den?"
"…Do you remembah when you'se was about…I dunno…six?"
"Yeah…"
"Remembah sellin a pape to a girl named Emma, who gave you your Cowboy nickname?"
"Yeah," he said.
"That was me," she said.
"You's that girl?" he asked, shocked. Emily nodded, then placed a finger to her lips.
"Shhh…only you and Crutchy know that…well, and Spot Conlon, but he's a different story. Promise not to tell anyone, please…"
"Okay, but why are you pretending to be a guy?"
"My papa told me to find a job, but to disguise meself as a boy to find one I like. I love my papa, and I wanna go home to see him, but if I go, I won't be able to come back." He nodded.
"So, you took this job as a guy named Alex? Well, that explains why you never walk around witout your overshirt on…" Emily nodded.
"Come on, lets go to bed."
"Dey jacked up the price! Didja hear dat Jack? Ten cents a hundred! You know, it's bad enough dat we gotta eat what we don' sell. Now dey jacked up the price! Can you believe that?" Blink said. Jack stepped up the stairs, saying, "Cool it!" He walked over and stood in front of Mr. Weisel.
"Why the jack up Weasel?" he asked. Weasel looked at him.
"Why not? It's a nice day…why not go ask Mr. Pulitzer!" he said. Jack walked over and sat on the steps.
"What're we gonna do, Jack? We barely made it by when it was fidy cents!" Alex said.
"Give 'im room, give 'im room! Let 'im think!" Les said, pushing through people and sitting by Jack.
"Hey, Jack, you done thinkin yet?" Race asked.
"Well, one thing's for sure. If we don't sell papes, then no one sells papes. No one comes through those gates till they put the price back where it was."
"What'd you mean, like a strike?" David asked.
"Yeah, like I strike," Jack said.
"Jack, I was just kidding. We can't go on strike, we don't have union…"
"Yeah, but…if we go on strike, then we are a union, right?"
"No, we're just a bunch of angry kids with no money," David said.
"You saw what happened to the trolley workers," David said, hopping off the landing of the steps.
"Yeah, well that's anuddah good idea. Any newsie who don' join, we'll bust their heads, like the trolley woikahs!" Jack cried. Everyone cheered.
"Okay, we need some of d'ose…eh, what'd you call em…" Jack began, standing on the front steps on Pulitzer's building.
"Ambassadors?" David asked.
"Yeah…" Jack stepped up to the porch.
"You guys, you gotta am-bastards." giggles The newsies began to call out where they would go and gather more newsies. "Okay, now, what about Brooklyn? Huh? Who wants Brooklyn? Come on, Spot Conlon's territory!" he called. Alex wasn't paying attention…he was playing around with a coin in his hand. "You guys ain't afraid of Brooklyn, are yas?" Jack asked. Alex looked up, and jammed the coin in his pocket.
"Hey, we ain't afraid of Brooklyn. Spot Conlon makes us a little nouvus (nervous)," Boots said.
"Alright, then, Boots, you, me, Alex, we'll go to Brooklyn…and David can keep us company," he said.
"Well, shouldn't you take our demands to Mr. Pulitzer?" David asked.
"Me? To Pulitzer? Well, maybe da kid'll soften him up." David walked off the porch and began to talk to Brian Denton of The Sun, and Alex stared up at the sky, smiling, thinking about seeing Spot again. The doors were pushed open, and Jack and Les came flying out.
"And so is your old lady! You tell Pulitzer he needs to make an appointment with me!"
"Yeah!" Les called in when the doors slammed.