7 December, 2006
Author's Note: Greetings to all! This is my first Newsies fan fiction, although I have written a few fan fics in The Outsiders category on a different account. (XoXoXOutsiderChickXoXoX) I realize how insanely short this first chapter is, but it is really only an introduction to give a vague idea of where this story is going. I'll be uploading the next chapter tonight very shortly, and I promise that it'll be much longer! Some general information: the name Lead is pronounced led, as in pencil lead or lead poisoning. I didn't want anyone to get confused and think that it was pronounced leed, as in I'm leading my horse to the stable lol. No need to review on this first chapter, as there isn't much to it. ( but you can if you want!) If you read the second chapter, it would be great if you reviewed to tell me how I'm doing so far. You certainly don't have to, but reviews help me grow as a writer by showing me what I can fix and what I should avoid doing in the future. Okey dokey, onto the story!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Newsies or claim to own them.
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From Beginning to End
I
Race asked him to tell their story, beginning to end. Lead has an empty notepad and a sharp pencil, and that's all he needs.
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Lead sat on his bunk unmoving, an empty notepad on his lap and a pencil placed behind his ear. He was alone in the lodging house. The other newsies were all out, most likely selling their papers. That's what I should be doin', Lead thought to himself. But Lead knew what he really should be doing. He looked down at the empty notepad and he was reminded of the pressing words Racetrack had urgently confided in Lead. . .
"Write it all down, Lead, from beginning to end. You know our story better dan anyone else. I know dat da woids are already in your head, ya just gotta put 'em on paper. Don't let no one forget, kid. Especially not yourself." With those words, Ractrack turned to walk out of the room but turned back to Lead before he reached the door. Rummaging in his pocket, he presented a small rectangular tin box to Lead and handed it to him. "Give it ta Snipes, kid. I know he'd want 'em. And take one for yourself. Might make a man outta ya." Racetrack smiled weakly at Lead before giving him an affectionate slap on his back and walking out the front door of the Newsboys' Lodging House into the sweltering night, never to be seen again by any of his fellow newsies.
Watching Racetrack disappear into the night, Lead felt truly abandoned. He couldn't explain it, but he somehow knew at that moment that Racetrack was gone. Forever. Racetrack, the one who had gotten him out of the refuge, who had taught him everything about being a newsie, who had introduced him to Bryon Denton. His best friend, gone forever.
Lead looked down at the tin box he held in his hand. Hesitantly, he took the lid off and looked inside. Six unsmoked cigars lay side by side in the box: Race's stash. Lead dropped the box on the floor before he himself collapsed next to the fallen cigars. It was that way that the other newsies found him hours later, rocking himself back and forth and sobbing uncontrollably. Half delirious in his own sorrow, Lead was carried up to his bunk by Jack Kelley, who took his shoes and hat off for him and placed him under the covers of his bed.
The next day, nobody said a word to Lead about his behavior. They didn't have to ask him to know what had happened. The spilled cigars on the floor told the whole story.
Lead quickly came back to the present. After bringing himself out of that painful memory, which had taken place only one week ago, Lead angrily wiped away the hot tears that were silently streaming down his face. The sorrow and hurt that had been eating at his heart since the disappearance of his best friend suddenly turned to determination. Opening the notebook to the first page, fresh and clean, Lead took the pencil from behind his ear and began writing.
I'll do your story justice, Race. You can count on me.
