Disclaimer - I no own newsies!
Chapter One : Prayers and Answers
What the fuck was I supposed to do? Leave Michael and Molly on some doorstep? I think not. The orphanage was their best bet, despite the fact that they'd probably hate me forever. But I could live with that as long as they were safe. I could hardly cart them around all day never less feed them. And sooner or later we were going to get caught.
I tried praying. But I guess the patron saint of immigrants, Saint Francis, was weary. Can you imagine all of us praying to her. I was probably lost i the shuffle.
Dammit! I scolded myself as I ran unto somebody. "Sorry sir." I said. That's when our eyes met. He has similar vibrant blue eyes, brown - almost black hair, and the pale skin that I had. He was an Irish one for sure.
"It's okay," he replied smoothy. Too smoothly. He was up to something, "Buy me pape?"
I knew he was going to ask me for something. I had few pennies to spare but I felt as if I had to, "Sure, how much?"
I dug through the pockets in my skirt, praying that a new hole hadn't developed and my money fell though. I would be surprised at nothing right now.
"Thank you madame." he replied in a mock manner, starting to make way to the other boys holding newspapers. And then I saw the scar on his neck. It was almost like a crooked hook, and then and there I new Saint Francis had finally answered my prayers.
"Danny!" I stood still and yelled it at the top of my lungs though the bustle of the street. All of the boys turned around and looked at me out of curiosity, "Danny Brady!" I tried again.
He gave me a death glare, "And youse would be?
I giggled, "Oh just little of Molly. The girl you used to shove into the Shannon."
He stared at me for a minute, trying to figure out if I was making it all up or not, "Molly Kinsella? Is that really you?"
"Nah," I retorted sarcastically. I struck a match against the wall and lit my last cigarette, "it's just a girl with the same name, looks, and past."
He started walking towards me faster than before and we finally embraced into a hug. I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face into the crook of his neck and shoulder, "I'm so glad I found you Danny." I whispered into his neck.
He took my chin between his thumb and pointer finger and got close into my face, looking into my eyes. For a moment we forgot about everyone around, "I thought you died Mol. When you stopped showin' up to school ad your house was empty. Miss. O'Brien said your whole family got consumption and died."
"Well," I pulled my face out of his hands and back into his neck, "I didn't."
His breathing was stead and hot on my neck and it wasn't until then that I realized how much I missed the comfort of being held into someone's arms. It scared me. I didn't need anybody to survive. I quickly stood up straight on my own. He grabbed my hand and started walking me to the other boys, "Heya," he said, "This is Molly - an old friend of mine from Ireland."
"Hey." I replied taking another drag of my cigarette.
"Well," and boy with a red bandanna and cowboy hate cleared his throat, "We'se going to Tibby's for lunch Dart. Bring you're friend if you want."
Danny looked up e and I nodded, "Why not?"
We continued to walk in the direction of the other boys, always a few steps behind, "So Mol, " he asked, "Whatcha been up to?"
"I just put Maggie and Michael in an orphanage if that helps, " the rudeness and frustration was evident in my voice, "Me mum just died and Da- Da left us a long time ago."
I knew he couldn't muster anything to say so he starred at me before quietly saying, "Sorry to hear that.
"No you aint," I couldn't help but to laugh, "You hated that god dammed bastard as my as I did."
He laughed also, then released my hand and beckoned for me to follow him. He lead me into a small diner, where I could see many newsies sitting around, talking and laughing about everything.
"Woo - wee," One with a cigar in his mouth exclaimed, "Who'se the beauty with you dart?
I blushed when Danny replied, "This is Molly, she's an old friend of mine from Eire."
The boys nodded and went back to their business. Danny pulled me into a seat next to him and order and sandwich. I refused to order, insisting to myself to save my money for an emergency. I could always steal food later.
"Well heya baby doll," a sly boy with blue eyes said. He took my hand in his and placed it to his lips. I blushed again before he continued, "Pleasure to meet you."
I quickly pulled my hand out of his and he smirked, knowing that he got to me. I hated boys like that, "Wish I could say the same."
Boys echoed oohs and ahhhs as if they were watching the whole exchange and I began to get embarrassed. I never was really good in front of a crowd.
Danny only chuckled and I suddenly felt very uncomfortable, "I gotta go Danny."
His eyes lit up, "Where are you staying," he asked, "I want to be able to stop later."
I glared at him, "Oh just here and there," I replied, not trying to let on that I had nowhere to go, "and everywhere."
"You Molly," he started, "are going to be the death of me. I know you ain't got nowhere to go. You're commin with me."
I glared at him. I didn't need help from anyone. It seemed like the more I glared the more he laughed, "Do you find something funny about this Daniel Malachy Brady?"
His smile faded at the use of his full name, "Come on Mol. I'll introduce you the the rest of my boys.
It was then that I realized all the boys standing around. Of of you young, attractive boys. Leaning over to the closest one I tried to remember his name, but I couldn't, "Gotta light? I asked.
He produced a small beat up box of matches, "And maybe a cigarette?" I requested.
"No." He replied courtly.
"Yeah you do."
"Ise said I don't."
"And I said you do." I knew he had cigarettes and I was craving nicotine so bad that I thought my head was going to cave it.
"And how's that?" he challenged.
I smirked, knowing I won, "Why, I can see them in you're shirt pocket."
His eyes glared into mine as he handed me a cigarette. I lit it with the matches he supplied and handing them back, "Thanks uh..." I just couldn't remember his damn name, "Newsboy?"
He looked at me grimly, "Try Spot."
"Yeah, Spot, I knew that."
Spot chuckled and I received an astonished look from Danny. My frown met his smile for a couple of seconds before he spoke, "Come on Mol, let's go to the lodging house."
I picked up my skirts and tried to pass Spot to catch up with Danny, and as I passed him I could of sworn I felt some fingers slide down my back. Embarrassed, I walked even faster.
It was just Danny and I on the walk back, and I couldn't help but feel like he was giving me some sort of charity.
"You know Danny," I began, "You don't have to do this."
"Of course I do," he replied, "You ain't got nowhere else to go."
For some reason or another that last statement irked me. I didn't need him telling me I had no place to go. I can figure things out on my own. I need nobody.
"I do so Danny!" I cried out fiercely, "As a matter o' fact I forgot all about me Uncle Paddy in Brooklyn. He said I could stay with him a wee bit ago. Maybe i'll take him up on his offer."
Danny looked at me skeptically. I know he had to remember my Uncle Paddy from back when we were in Ireland. He was a no good hustler who would rape me mother when she was young and beat his first wife nearly to death. A few years ago he married one of his former whores, a stocky german named Helga, and at the wedding he tried to buy me from me ma. So I wasn't lying, he did say I could stay with him.
"Aight Molly," he stated blankly, "But at least let me walk you over to Brooklyn. That's Spot's territory so I know some of the boys. I can ask them to look out for ya."
"That a real nice offer," I replied, "But I don't want to be no burden. I'll settle in and find you later. You can stop by sometime, he lives on Doyle Street."
Without waiting for him to reply I quickly turned on my heel and headed for the bridge. It wasn't until minutes later that I realized how stupid I was. I knew what Paddy would make me do but my damn Irish pride got in the way. It always got in the way. I walked faster, trying to forget about the days events. Leaving Michael and Maggie in some hole in the wall orphanage, turning down the only person who seemed to be honestly helping me, and now, standing in the middle of the Brooklyn bride crying my heart out.
I leaned against a pole for support but slowly shrank down to the ground, "Stop crying, stop crying, stop crying!" I told myself but it didn't seemed to work.
"You know, if you keep talkin to yourself, people are going to think you're crazy." A voice said from behind me.
I turned around to face the voice. Shit. Just my luck. It was no one other than the blue eyes newsie from earlier.
