My first Newsies fic!
"Specs . . ." Boots looked up at the boy sitting beside him to make sure he was listening. "You see them babies over there. . . . where're their muddahs?"
Sighing in annoyance Specs stopped spinning his bowler hat and glanced up to see what Boots was talking about. He wasn't sure how he'd got stuck sitting next to the younger boy (he usually tried to avoid the younger ones, they were always too noisy or too quiet or too clingy) but he'd put up with Boots today because the kid had been pretty quiet. . . .up until now.
Across the street Specs could see that the doors of the local orphanage had been thrown open to try and let in some non-existent breeze. Through the doors rows of cribs are visible, each with a baby encaged inside. Some were standing up, clinging to the bars and staring curiously out onto the street, but most just lay still, sucking their thumbs and staring up at the ceiling. Specs knew that the orphanage only cared for babies. Once they reach three the children were moved somewhere else, out to the country where they learnt to be farmers and milkmaids and things.
"They don't got no muddahs Boots . . .they're orphans just like us. None of us got any muddahs." Specs waited for Boots to reply, or at least give some sort of sign that he'd heard him. When he received neither he glanced down at him.
Boots was staring thoughtfully at his lap, his brown furrowed in concentration. Specs watched the boys short legs swing back and forth while he waited.
"Snipes's got a muddah." The words startled Specs, who looked up to find Boots staring back at him earnestly.
"Snipeshooter?" Specs snorted in amusement. "He don't go no muddah."
"He has. He told me."
"I'm telling' ya Boots, he don't. Coz if Snipes has a muddah, then Racetrack has a muddah and Race sure as hell don't got no muddah."
Boots frowned, his bottom lip poking out slightly. "He told me." He repeated, like Specs didn't understand the importance of the statement.
"You can't believe everything people tell you Boots." Specs hated how old and weary he sounded.
Boots shrugged, his frown disappearing and his face becoming young again. "I know. . .that's why I only believe him."
Boots jumped down from the steps and darted over to Snipes. Specs watched as the other boy broke his stick in half and handed one piece to Boots. As they began to play fight, Specs tried to remember when he'd stopped believing his own friends so sincerely.