Disclaimer: I don't own Disney's "Newsies". BUT! I DO own Kate, Tock,
Buckets.
"Hey pops wake up, I'm leavin." Kathryn shook her father's shoulder slightly. "Mmph," he grumbled, "where you goin'?"
"You know where I'm goin! I'm goin ta sell in da same intasection as I always do, pops, you know dat!"
"O ok. Its hard for me to remember these things at 4 in the mornin. Be careful Kate."
"I will, daddy." Kate walked out of her father's bedroom, snatched her hat off of the staircase banister on the way down and slammed the door behind her.
It was a brisk morning in Philadelphia on November 13, 1897, and Kate could see her breath as she kicked dirt up in the street. The boots she wore were brown with years of use, and the shoelaces were split at the ends. She had a rough life, but never thought anything of it. A quick breeze blew by and she passed between two very tall buildings. She hated alleys. It felt like the buildings were going to fall down on her. The breeze was large enough to blow her hat off of her head and she went tumbling after it down the alley and into the carriage-ridden street.
It was still dark out, so she had a little trouble knowing where exactly she was. Before she knew it, the pounding of hooves shook the ground beneath her when a carriage came 2 inches from hitting her. She dove out of the way with her hat close to her heart and her heart itself racing. "Get out of the way you little tramp!" yelled a man from the carriage seat. "Sorry!" She yelled back. Her parents had always taught her to be courteous even when others were being rude. That rule didn't really apply anymore, since her mother was sent to a mental asylum two years ago. Kate had to find a different way of supporting herself, and that was by selling newspapers for the Philadelphia Tribune everyday at the crack of dawn. The streets had taught her a whole different way to live. Kate continued walking down Main Street until she came to where a crowd of kids were sitting outside of a barred window. "Heya, Buckets!" she yelled.
"Hey guys come ova heah! Kate decided to wake up a lil late taday, didn't cha?" She laughed at these remarks given by her best friend, Buckets, and was soon swallowed into his large arms with him laughing like a little kid again. Well, he kind of was a little kid. Buckets and Kate were both 15 years old, and he was only a few inches taller than her at 5'6". She thought he was cute, actually. "Okay okay, get off me ya big lummox!" He released her from his grip, but didn't hesitate to give her shoulder-length blonde hair a good scratch. "OW!" She yelped. He laughed and went about talking to all his friends at the distribution center. But she wasn't done. She grabbed the back of his suspenders and snapped them as hard as she could. O yeah he would have a welt for weeks with that one. "Holy SHIT! Kate! What the hell ya tryin ta do ta me, huh?" She burst out laughing and ran around the brick building to where the girls were gathering and gossiping. Kate was never really good friends with any of them, since she liked to rough house and usually only guys took part in that sort of play. Plus, Kate didn't wear dresses like most of them did. She only had a blue corduroy hat, tan slacks, a blue plaid shirt, and a white undershirt. One girl, Tock, looked up from her conversation with her friends and shouted, "look out! Kate don't wear no red!" This was a long joke that all of the newsies that sold for the Tribune had had for a very long time. Kate laughed and then turned quick on her heels, trying to blend in with the girls so that Buckets wouldn't see her. It didn't work. Buckets came around the corner and saw her almost immediately. He was laughing and just then he realized that the distribution bell was ringing. All the girls were scurrying past him and out of the corner of his eye he saw Kate sticking her tongue out at him. "Just wait. One day I'm gonna get you and you're gonna be one sorry little ass." She knew he was just kidding. The girls respectively took their place at the end of the line. The boys always went first; it drove Kate crazy. She was so anxious to get all of her papers sold and to get home before the afternoon edition came out. Buckets moved to the front of the line. He slapped down 30 cents and Mr. Tromn handed him his 60 papes.
By the time Kate got her 60 papes, Buckets had been waiting for her at the gates for 15 minutes. "C'mon slow buns! If ya wanna make some money ya gotta hustle a lil bit!" She hurried towards him and they both trotted down the street until they came to the busiest intersection in the area: 23rd and Colmes. There they yelled the headlines for a good 3 hours.
It was a lot more tiring than most people thought. You had to yell loud enough so even the people in the carriages could hear you, and if you made up a headline, you had to run as fast as your legs could carry you if you got an angry customer. Selling newspapers was just starting to take its toll on Kate, and she had been selling for 2 years now. Kate actually got rid of all her papes real fast, so she waited around for Buckets to finish with his. Then they decided to head home together. It was a whole lot better to walk with someone else in Philadelphia. It just made you feel more comfortable on the busy streets. As they walked back towards Kate's house, Buckets slung his arm around her shoulders and lit a cigarette. She looked at him expectantly, and he rolled his eyes playfully as he lit her one as well. She took a big swig and blew a ring into the air. "So how's life treatin' ya, Kate?" Buckets inquired.
"Oh it's okay I guess. My dad gets real drunk sometimes. We ain't been hearin' nothin' good from the asylum. But they say she'll be better soon if she would stop hittin herself in the head so much." Buckets felt a little sorry for her and tried to change the subject. "How 'bout ya bruddas? You heard anything from them?"
"Nah. They left for the West 3 years ago. Didn't I eva tell you dat? They went out West thinkin' they was gonna gets rich or somethin'. Eva since they both got married to crazy whores from the streets, daddy aint been too happy to hear from them anyways." Buckets realized that his attempt to lighten the conversation had failed and he allowed himself to walk the rest of the way in silence. When they got to her tenement, she waved goodbye and walked up the stairs to the 2th floor. "Hey Dad! I'm done!" There was nothing but silence. "Dad?!" She walked to her father's door and creaked it open. "Dad?" She heard a crash of glass come from the bathroom. "Hey Dad! You okay in there?" A sob reached her ears. With a hard right kick, she busted the locked bathroom door open. Her dad was sitting in the bathtub with a broken liquor bottle on the floor next to him. "Aw dad c'mon, what happened?" As she looked around, she noticed that there were more whiskey bottles laying around the bathroom on the counters and toilet. A red flag went off. He only drinks like this when something serious has happened. She threw off her hat, brushed the broken bottle aside and sat next to the rub. "Dad....dad.... look at me dad. What's going on." When he lifted his face, she saw the bloodshot, teary eyes that she hated to see. "Kate..." he sobbed. He grabbed her around her shoulders and pulled her over the side of the tub. He held her there for a long time before he could even speak. He drenched Kate's shirt with his tears. "Ok dad. You let it all out. Now just tell me what happened!" He lifted a finger and pointed to a piece of paper in the sink. "What does it say, daddy?" She looked at him with desperation. Her father had never been like this before. He very rarely cried and if he ever did, they were quiet, soft tears. "JUST TELL ME WHAT IT SAYS GOD DAMNIT! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU!" Kate shook him violently, hoping to get him out of the silent stage. "Kate, sweety...." They made contact almost immediately. "Your mother is dead."
"Hey pops wake up, I'm leavin." Kathryn shook her father's shoulder slightly. "Mmph," he grumbled, "where you goin'?"
"You know where I'm goin! I'm goin ta sell in da same intasection as I always do, pops, you know dat!"
"O ok. Its hard for me to remember these things at 4 in the mornin. Be careful Kate."
"I will, daddy." Kate walked out of her father's bedroom, snatched her hat off of the staircase banister on the way down and slammed the door behind her.
It was a brisk morning in Philadelphia on November 13, 1897, and Kate could see her breath as she kicked dirt up in the street. The boots she wore were brown with years of use, and the shoelaces were split at the ends. She had a rough life, but never thought anything of it. A quick breeze blew by and she passed between two very tall buildings. She hated alleys. It felt like the buildings were going to fall down on her. The breeze was large enough to blow her hat off of her head and she went tumbling after it down the alley and into the carriage-ridden street.
It was still dark out, so she had a little trouble knowing where exactly she was. Before she knew it, the pounding of hooves shook the ground beneath her when a carriage came 2 inches from hitting her. She dove out of the way with her hat close to her heart and her heart itself racing. "Get out of the way you little tramp!" yelled a man from the carriage seat. "Sorry!" She yelled back. Her parents had always taught her to be courteous even when others were being rude. That rule didn't really apply anymore, since her mother was sent to a mental asylum two years ago. Kate had to find a different way of supporting herself, and that was by selling newspapers for the Philadelphia Tribune everyday at the crack of dawn. The streets had taught her a whole different way to live. Kate continued walking down Main Street until she came to where a crowd of kids were sitting outside of a barred window. "Heya, Buckets!" she yelled.
"Hey guys come ova heah! Kate decided to wake up a lil late taday, didn't cha?" She laughed at these remarks given by her best friend, Buckets, and was soon swallowed into his large arms with him laughing like a little kid again. Well, he kind of was a little kid. Buckets and Kate were both 15 years old, and he was only a few inches taller than her at 5'6". She thought he was cute, actually. "Okay okay, get off me ya big lummox!" He released her from his grip, but didn't hesitate to give her shoulder-length blonde hair a good scratch. "OW!" She yelped. He laughed and went about talking to all his friends at the distribution center. But she wasn't done. She grabbed the back of his suspenders and snapped them as hard as she could. O yeah he would have a welt for weeks with that one. "Holy SHIT! Kate! What the hell ya tryin ta do ta me, huh?" She burst out laughing and ran around the brick building to where the girls were gathering and gossiping. Kate was never really good friends with any of them, since she liked to rough house and usually only guys took part in that sort of play. Plus, Kate didn't wear dresses like most of them did. She only had a blue corduroy hat, tan slacks, a blue plaid shirt, and a white undershirt. One girl, Tock, looked up from her conversation with her friends and shouted, "look out! Kate don't wear no red!" This was a long joke that all of the newsies that sold for the Tribune had had for a very long time. Kate laughed and then turned quick on her heels, trying to blend in with the girls so that Buckets wouldn't see her. It didn't work. Buckets came around the corner and saw her almost immediately. He was laughing and just then he realized that the distribution bell was ringing. All the girls were scurrying past him and out of the corner of his eye he saw Kate sticking her tongue out at him. "Just wait. One day I'm gonna get you and you're gonna be one sorry little ass." She knew he was just kidding. The girls respectively took their place at the end of the line. The boys always went first; it drove Kate crazy. She was so anxious to get all of her papers sold and to get home before the afternoon edition came out. Buckets moved to the front of the line. He slapped down 30 cents and Mr. Tromn handed him his 60 papes.
By the time Kate got her 60 papes, Buckets had been waiting for her at the gates for 15 minutes. "C'mon slow buns! If ya wanna make some money ya gotta hustle a lil bit!" She hurried towards him and they both trotted down the street until they came to the busiest intersection in the area: 23rd and Colmes. There they yelled the headlines for a good 3 hours.
It was a lot more tiring than most people thought. You had to yell loud enough so even the people in the carriages could hear you, and if you made up a headline, you had to run as fast as your legs could carry you if you got an angry customer. Selling newspapers was just starting to take its toll on Kate, and she had been selling for 2 years now. Kate actually got rid of all her papes real fast, so she waited around for Buckets to finish with his. Then they decided to head home together. It was a whole lot better to walk with someone else in Philadelphia. It just made you feel more comfortable on the busy streets. As they walked back towards Kate's house, Buckets slung his arm around her shoulders and lit a cigarette. She looked at him expectantly, and he rolled his eyes playfully as he lit her one as well. She took a big swig and blew a ring into the air. "So how's life treatin' ya, Kate?" Buckets inquired.
"Oh it's okay I guess. My dad gets real drunk sometimes. We ain't been hearin' nothin' good from the asylum. But they say she'll be better soon if she would stop hittin herself in the head so much." Buckets felt a little sorry for her and tried to change the subject. "How 'bout ya bruddas? You heard anything from them?"
"Nah. They left for the West 3 years ago. Didn't I eva tell you dat? They went out West thinkin' they was gonna gets rich or somethin'. Eva since they both got married to crazy whores from the streets, daddy aint been too happy to hear from them anyways." Buckets realized that his attempt to lighten the conversation had failed and he allowed himself to walk the rest of the way in silence. When they got to her tenement, she waved goodbye and walked up the stairs to the 2th floor. "Hey Dad! I'm done!" There was nothing but silence. "Dad?!" She walked to her father's door and creaked it open. "Dad?" She heard a crash of glass come from the bathroom. "Hey Dad! You okay in there?" A sob reached her ears. With a hard right kick, she busted the locked bathroom door open. Her dad was sitting in the bathtub with a broken liquor bottle on the floor next to him. "Aw dad c'mon, what happened?" As she looked around, she noticed that there were more whiskey bottles laying around the bathroom on the counters and toilet. A red flag went off. He only drinks like this when something serious has happened. She threw off her hat, brushed the broken bottle aside and sat next to the rub. "Dad....dad.... look at me dad. What's going on." When he lifted his face, she saw the bloodshot, teary eyes that she hated to see. "Kate..." he sobbed. He grabbed her around her shoulders and pulled her over the side of the tub. He held her there for a long time before he could even speak. He drenched Kate's shirt with his tears. "Ok dad. You let it all out. Now just tell me what happened!" He lifted a finger and pointed to a piece of paper in the sink. "What does it say, daddy?" She looked at him with desperation. Her father had never been like this before. He very rarely cried and if he ever did, they were quiet, soft tears. "JUST TELL ME WHAT IT SAYS GOD DAMNIT! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU!" Kate shook him violently, hoping to get him out of the silent stage. "Kate, sweety...." They made contact almost immediately. "Your mother is dead."