Disclaimer:  Newsies does not belong to me.  []pout[]  I wish it did.  Oh, and I got the idea of using letters to tell the story from the book Feeling Sorry for Celia.  Sorry, can't remember who it's by, but it was a v. v. good book.


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Letters to an Almost Cowboy


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Madison Square


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HEY!!!  HEY!!!!  OVER HERE!!!  DID YA FIND ME!!?? WELL, SINCE YOU'RE THE LEADER OF MANHATTAN, AND ALL, I FIGURED YOU'D WANT TO KNOW THAT I LEFT FOR THE TRACKS EARLY.  JUST SOME BUSINESS TO TAKE CARE OF.  WILL BUY PAPES AT CENTER IN BROOKLYN, BECAUSE IT IS CLOSER.  BE BACK BY DARK.


HAPPY SELLING,

RACETRACK




Dear Mr. Francis Sullivan,

            Do not worry.  Racetrack can take care of himself.  He says he'll be back by dark; he'll be back by dark.  Just freshen up, get your boys together, and get down to the distribution center.

            Look at Mush, smiling.  Even Skittery is smiling this morning as everyone washes up.  See?  Today is going to be a good day.  You wait and see.

            Stop Worrying.

Worry Free,

The Worry-Warts Ward




Loverboy,

            Meeting Sarah for dinner after selling is just so romantic!  You're so handsome and romantic, aren't you?

            Wait.  What do you think you're doing?  Don't slurp your spaghetti.  Sarah won't like that.  And for goodness sakes!  Don't play with your food.  Look at her eyes.

            Do you see her looking at you?  So much love there, in her eyes.  You should do something more than just dinner.  A walk around the park, maybe?  And if it gets cold, you can offer her your jacket!  Well, assuming you buy one along the way.  How romantic.  Aren't you glad you thought of it?  Huh?

Lovingly,

The Young Romantics Association




Muttonhead,

            What on Earth do you think you're doing?!  You're kissing her.  At night.  In the park.  There is no one else around.  This is the perfect opportunity to score, score, score!! But no.  You have to be all nice about it.

            Maybe there's a reason, huh?  The real reason you can't do anymore than kiss her?  You know why, Jack.  You know why.  You've looked at Mush a few times for a moment too long, haven't you?  Kept laughing at Racetrack's jokes long after the humor had gone?  Admired David for his smarts, then quickly for his eyes?

            So?  What'll it be, Jack?  Boys or girls?  You can't have both!*  Hurry up and choose!  Pick, pick, pick!!  Boys, girls, boys, girls?  And why are you still kissing Sarah?  Stop it.  If you don't choose now, she'll hate you for not telling her sooner.  She'll hate you, Jack. 

You.

Grudgingly,

Teen Angst Society




Dear Cowboy,

            How awful.  You are an awful, awful person.  It was downright heartless when you said, "I'm sorry, but I don't have feelings for you when I kiss you."

            I'M SORRY?!  She's completely devastated!  Can't you tell?!  What if she decides to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge because her love life ended?  What if she becomes a nun?!  It'd all be your fault.  Not to mention that Davey is going to kill you.

            Yeah, that's right.  Just go about your business.  Pretend nothing happened.  Say 'Hi' to Skittery and Itey and Snitch.  Ask how the day was for Blink and Mush.  Check up on Specs and Dutchy.  Normal leader rounds.  But wait.

            There's one person not here.

            Racetrack.

            He's still missing.

            Bet that's your fault, too.

Think about it,

Guilty Consciences R'Us



==



I can't stop thinking about you.  But I know you already have someone, and the depression of knowing this fact is starting to get to me.  I fear I may have to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge.

Anonymous




Boycow,

            You are probably wondering why we have spelled your name wrong.  There is a brilliant explanation for this.  We mixed up the letters so that in case this message was intercepted by someone, he or she would not be able to decipher to whom the message is directed.  Brilliant.

            Who could it be?  Huh?  Nice to find an anonymous note in your boycow hat right after you wake up.  Can't be Sarah, can it?  You broke up with her last night.  We wonder if 'anonymous' knows that you and Sarah are no longer a couple.  Who is it?  Think.

            Could it be Mush?  No, he's far too happy.

            Kid Blink?  Specs?  Dutchy?

Who is it, Jack?  Who is it?

Mysteriously,

Amateur Sleuths Association




I'm kidding about the killing myself thing.

Anonymous




Loverboy,

            Isn't it exciting!?  Your very own secret admirer!  Oh, your life is turning into such a drama!  First you break up with Sarah because you like to kiss boys, then this note!  Well, your secret love obviously has a sense of humor, if not a bit melodramatic.

            Can you wait for anymore of these letters?  We can't.

Love,

The Young Romantics Association




Mr. Kelly/Sullivan,

            It has come to our attention that you lost one of your newsboys yesterday, and he is still missing today.  His name is Racetrack, yes?  Why haven't you found him yet?  Shouldn't you send someone after him?  Maybe he stayed in Brooklyn last night, and is selling over there today?  After all, Sheepshead is in Brooklyn.

            Oh, that's great.  Now you send someone to look for him.

            You say, "Swifty, run to Brooklyn for me, will ya?"  Swifty nods, only because you are his leader.

            "What for?"  Tell him, Jack.  But don't let any of your worry seep into your voice.  You're a leader, Jack.  You have to be strong.

            You say, "Ask Spot if he's seen Race." 

Good.  Your voice was friendly, but commanding.  Steady.  Just like a leader should be.

Swifty runs out the door.  He'll be back soon.

You did good, Cowboy.  You did good.

—Advice for Leaders Ltd.




Cowboy,

            Swifty's back.  He'd holding a letter in his hands.  From Spot? 

            Uh oh.  His face doesn't seem so happy.  Probably not good news.

            What if Spot found Racetrack dead in an alley somewhere?  Race could be dead, Jack.  Gone.  Why else would Swifty look so down?  And Spot.  Surely he could have just asked Swifty to relay a message?

            But he felt the need to write it down.  Written words are easier to read than spoken words are heard, after all.  Must be bad.

            Swifty hands you the letter and then joins Skittery and Kid Blink and Mush in a game of poker.  It's not the same, though, because Racetrack isn't there to rub their losses in their faces.

            You read the letter and your heart skips a beat.

            Take a deep breath, Jack.

Brows Furrowed,

The Worry-Warts Ward




jack,

            race not in Brooklyn.  not with me, anyway.  have a feeling he is in trouble.

            meet me at your end of the Bridge tomorrow, midnight.

—spot




==



End first chapter.



*You could swing both ways, too, but for the purposes of this story, Jack is confused, so feels the need to make a quick decision, right then.



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