A/N I promised myself I would not write this story. I lied. Also, Disney owns everyone you recognize. Third, this story incorporates certain things from the movie as well as the Broadway musical. The spelling of "Crutchie," is one of those things as well as the Lodging House rooftop. The title is derived from a lyric in Broadway's version of "Seize the Day."
PROLOGUE
We'd done it. We had accomplished the impossible and beat Pulitzer. We had won. The high every New York City newsie felt was unlike any other feeling we had ever experienced. Once again, newsies filled the streets, hawking headlines and tasting money again.
Not only did we street rats win against newspaper tycoons, each of the newsies gained the biggest reward of all-what it really meant to count on each other. Sure, some of us had been friends long before the strike but now we were brothers. I learned that I did have family, however untraditional it may be. Crutchie realized even "crips" are significant and Race learned forgiveness when I defected and then came back.
Perhaps the one who had grown the most was David. He had only been a newsie for a day when the strike struck. In the gang of newsies, he was the odd duck, the one who didn't seem to fit. That all changed though as he gained courage and friends.
"Hey Jack, can ya believe it's been three whole months since we won?" Crutchie hobbled up to me on the lodging house rooftop. The kid was still practically glowing with our success. I spared a long gaze at my friend. His injuries from the thugs had healed up fine, leaving no permanent damage.
"Yeah, Crutchie, it's too cold to be July." I knew what he meant, but as October progressed, I couldn't help but feel nervous over the looming winter.
Crutchie gave me a good natured eye-roll as he gingerly sat down on the roof.
"Say, kid, what'cha come here for anyways?" I asked the boy. Sometimes the newsie would make his way up the ladder, but more often he stayed on the ground. The ladder was always a challenge for him, one that he seldom met. The last time he'd been on the rooftop was the day before the strike began.
Crutchie fidgeted for a moment, running a grimy hand onto a dirty face, before he answered. "You's already said it Jack. It's getting colder and we'll need to partner up again soon." He smiled sheepishly, "We's all got our own selling spots but's gettin' too cold to sell alone."
As much as the newsie in me wanted to disagree, Crutchie was right. It was just too cold to sell without someone watching your back; the weather alone carried an extra threat to us. Lives had been lost the previous year, mainly chaps who decided to sell alone in the worst winter in New York's history. However, during most of the year, newsies typically sold alone. You got a better profit that way. Even my selling partner, Davey, sold a street away. His kid brother, Les, was allowed to sell on the weekends and on school holidays but had to return to school. Their folks had relented and allowed David to continue being a newsie. It had become apparent that Mayer's injuries would permanently end his career. Pretty soon, Davey and I would be selling on the same block, same as most of the other boys.
"You'se right Crutchie." I stroked my chin and gazed into the sun brightening in the horizon.
"Who are you planning on teaming up with?" I casually asked the boy. He didn't like to be pitied but he always got so damn sick in the winters. It was Polio that gave him the limp that earned the moniker of Crutchie in the first place. I would suggest that he team up with Dave and I, but knew Crutchie's pride wouldn't allow him two partners. He'd mistake it as us thinking he wasn't good enough.
"I Don't know yet." He shrugged, still wearing the easy-going smile of earlier.
"Well, you still got some time to figure that out, just don't take too long on it." I cautioned as the sun slowly stretched the length of the skyline. "Come on, the other boys should be getting ready to head the Square soon." I stood up, resisting the urge to offer my arm for him to grip, and allowed the other boy to climb down the ladder and into the building below.
Wonderful. Just what any newsie needs to worry about. It was the general consensus that God was being sadistic when He created winter. And the season was fast approaching like one of the trains at the Station. I shook my head; there was nothing I could do at the moment so it was best to leave the problem for later. It was time to meet up with Dave and then carry the banner.
Little did I know winter would soon be the least of my worries. . .