Act One: The Life of a Crippled Newsie
I remember when Jack used to talk about Santa Fe. He would come up with a different plan every night before we fell asleep. "Jus' ya' wait, Crutchie", he would say to me. "I'll find us a way ta' get 'dere. An' 'den we'll be free o' Manhattan for good." Yeah, Jack always seemed to have everything figured out. He was so confident that we'd make it there someday. I often wondered however, if he was just saying stuff to get me to sleep. After all, the life of a newsie isn't an easy one. We worked from sunrise to sunset, hawking the headline 'til our throats went numb. It could be raining, snowing, etc. You'd still see us on every corner of the city, bribing folks to buy papes. With a job like that, you needed all the sleep you could get. Jack always gave me the impression that he'd look out for me. After all, in a city like New York you had two options; either you learned to survive or you didn't survive. Still because of that reason, it was nice to believe that someone bigger and stronger than me was on my side. Despite of me being a crip, Jack always made me feel like I mattered, ya know? He made me feel, that even in this cruel and unforgiving city, I was important. But it all changed after that fight in Newsie Square...
It was the middle of July, and I remember this because the humid stench of summer still hung in the air. We had recently recruited two new guys. Davey, a smart lad who was about 16-17. And his younger brother Les, a little kid around 9. Davey and Les's father had had an accident while at work so until he got better, they agreed to work as newsies.
So after a long day, we headed back to the bunkhouse. Jack, Davey, and Les had run off somewhere, though later Specs told me he saw them run into the theater to hide from Snyder. Snyder ran a juvenile detention center he dubbed 'The Refuge' of all names. Jack and I knew a better name; Hell. Jack even got sent there once after getting caught stealing food and clothing for, ironically, the kids at The Refuge. Yeah, Snyder roughed him up real good. When Jack finally escaped and got back to us, he was more skin and bones than usual. Snyder had been tailing him ever since.
Anyway so when Jack got back from the theater, he had a rather different look to him. I could tell almost instantly what it was. Flushed cheeks, goofy grin, squinty eyes, and him murmuring to himself then shaking his head. Yep, it all added up to one thing. Jack was in love. So that night I asked him about it. "Katherine", he said. "Her name is Katherine Plumber. She's a reporter for da' New York Sun. Aw Crutchie, she's so beautiful. I really do hopes' I see her again."
Was I jealous? Maybe a little. But that was because I was used to me and Jack being so close.
"Don't worry 'bout it." Race told me when I asked for advice. He took another puff of his cigar and said, "You'se like a brodd'ah ta' Jack. He would nev'ah replace you'se wit' some know-it-all lady reporter. You'se mean every'ting ta' him. 'sides, how long could it last." I wasn't too sure though. Jack was completely smitten.
The next day, Joseph Pulitzer, editor and chief of The New York World, decides to raise the price of the papers; for us. You see, before we head to our stations in the morning, we line up, and pay a penny for every two papes we take to sell. But because Mr. Pulitzer was too greedy to keep things the same as they always been, he decided to take advantage of us by raising our price for papers. So this really ticked off Jack. So much that he wanted to do something drastic. Then Davey came up with the idea that we should form a union and go on strike. Jack agreed and together they put a plan into action. They decided to convince the other newsie territories to go on strike too. So we all split up into groups of three and took to the many districts of New York. We asked all of them but none of them would join the cause unless Spot Conlon, head of the Brooklyn newsies, signed on. Now Spot may be short in stature but for what he lacks in size he makes up for in attitude. Not to mention he's pretty good with that slingshot of his. Every one of us knew that having him on our side couldn't hurt. Spot made even the toughest of the newsies uncomfortable. By tomorrow we'd have a whole newsie army.
But tomorrow came and Brooklyn hadn't agreed to join us yet. Not to mention, we couldn't help but notice that the paper had replaced us. We were about to give up, when Davey convinced the new guys to go on strike with us. It really lifted our spirits. So much, that things got a little out of hand. We started ripping up papers, tilting over the wagons, shouting and yelling. We caused such a commotion that they sent the Delancy brothers to break us up. Well Jack was so caught in the moment, he punched them and they were out cold. Then the cops showed up...so did Snyder. So we all tried to get away. I wasn't so lucky. Jack was terrified of Snyder. He didn't, wasn't going back to The Refuge. I guess that's why he left me behind. Despite how fast I was trying to limp, Snyder caught up with me in no time. Of all times to be crippled, this wasn't a good one. "Jack!" My attempts to get Jack's attention failed and before I knew it Snyder knocked me down with my crutch and dragged me away. "Jack! Jack, please help me! Where ya' goin'?! JACK!"