No newsies were harmed in the creation of this story.
August, 1898
Two-bit cursed her small stature as she strained against the crowd. "God damnit!" she swore. "Pardon me," she snapped, neatly elbowing the man next to her in the ribs. That's more like it, she thought, as her view of the fight finally cleared.
Murphy took a hit in the jaw and doubled over. The crowd booed and hissed. "Come on, Murph," Two-bit bellowed reproachfully, waving a fist. She threw all her energy into it. "Break 'is face!" The exertion practically knocked the dusty silver eyeglasses from her face. She pushed them back up and continued to watch eagerly.
A few of the older dogs peered curiously at the loudmouthed girl in baggy pants, no doubt wondering. Two-bit delighted in their curiosity. "Hey, I got big money ridin' on this fight," she informed whomever would listen, then turned her attention back to the makeshift ring, located off the side of an abandoned warehouse.
Murphy, as if heeding her encouragement, picked himself up again and delivered a neat blow to Ripken's gut. He followed it up with a flurry of punches to the face, sending Rip to the corner. "That's a good lad!" someone shouted in a thick brogue on Two-bit's left. "Give 'im some o' that Irish charm. Yes!" A great cheer went up from half of the crowd, and once again Two-bit's vision was obscured. "Great bloody hell," she muttered impatiently, scurrying under the sweaty, affectionate headlocks of the fightgoers and searching desperately for a hole to peep through.
" 'Ey!" Two-bit didn't see the great bulk of a man until she'd plowed directly into him. She didn't even have to look up to know that it was the Irishman who'd been shouting.
" 'Scuse me," she hollered, spotting a packing crate a few feet away. She scampered over and climbed on top of it, scanning the crowd for Alleycats. "That shit," she growled. He'd put a whole dollar on Ripken, and she was ready to collect. Alleycats, though, was nowhere to be found.
"Lookin' for someone?"
Two-bit felt a tap on her back and whirled.
"Alley, I'm gonna—heyyyy!" She jumped down from the crate and punched Midnight O'Connell affectionately on the shoulder. "Whaddya doin' down here, Middy? This ain't your scene."
Midnight shrugged. "Thought I'd come check it out. That nosy copper on 38th was givin' me looks, so I beat it. Figured no one'd find me in this crowd." She gestured to the madness around them. As if to illustrate her point, a wayward spectator tripped over Two-bit, sloshing half of his beer out onto her shirt. "Hey, watch it!" Midnight yelled after him. "You okay?" she asked, turning back to Two-bit.
"Aw, Christ," Two-bit swore, shaking some of the beer from her front. "Yeah, I'm okay, I'll just smell like a pub till I can get this out good," she complained, yelling to make herself heard over the noise. "Hey, you ain't seen Alleycats anywhere, have you?"
Middy shook her head. "Nope, sorry. Why? Got a hot date?" she nudged Two-bit with a smile, and Two-bit rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, right. More like a hot tip. He owes me for this fight," she explained. "I tried to tell him, bettin' against Murphy's like throwin' money in the sewer! The man is a rock."
Middy laughed. "Hey, I'm gonna split. Wanna get a drink or something?"
"Sure, I'll tag along. Alley can't hide forever. I'll bust 'is head when we get back to the house."
A group of noisy Irish spectators were migrating in the same direction as Two-bit and Middy, which happened to be towards the Four Horses Tavern. "This oughta be interesting," Two-bit murmured to Middy. Middy snorted.
Once they got inside, they saw that the only free space was at the bar. The girls hopped onto adjacent barstools and dug into their pockets for money. Two-bit fished out a few pennies and slid them across the counter. "Sarsaparilla," she managed to bark out over the hubbub of the drunken crowd. "Make it two," Middy said, and added her money to Two-bit's.
Two-bit snickered into her glass as the rowdy patrons struck up a less-than-chaste song.
"Something tells me these guys picked a winner, too," Middy commented, two inches from Two-bit's ear. It was the only way to make herself heard. They exchanged a grin and continued to nurse their drinks.
They were about to hop down from their stools when a burly pair of hands landed on their shoulders. "You two lasses wouldna be leavin' wivout givin' us the pleasure of a dance, now would ye?" one of the tipsy Irishmen rasped.
Two-bit refrained from making eye contact and instead shot a look at Middy. "Actually, we would," she announced curtly, and tried to duck around him, but he caught her by the middle.
"Aw, now dun be coy," he slurred laughingly.
"Let me go, you horrible ass!" Two-bit snapped, pounding him on the back futilely and glancing desperately to Middy for help. Middy scowled at Two-bit, but managed to maneuver close enough to kick the man in the shins.
"You heard her," she cried. She grabbed Two-bit's arm and hauled her in the direction of the door. "This is the last time I come into a crowded tavern with you," she muttered. "I could get myself killed just trying to save your ass."
The man drained his Guinness and lurched after them. "Aw, shit," Two-bit seethed, ignoring Middy's comment. "The bastard's not givin' up."
She and Middy finally made it through the crush of people and emerged onto the street. The sun was going down, giving the air a slight chill. Two-bit shuddered. "The brute. If I didn't like it so much, I'd say beer oughta be outlawed." Middy, still unnerved, shot Two-bit a withering look and brushed off her clothes.
"Race ya back to the house?" Two-bit exclaimed, trying to cheer Middy up. Middy rolled her eyes.
"I don't wanna have to kick your ass, Two-bit," she replied loftily.
Two-bit smirked. "Don't worry, you—HEY!"
The drunkard had burst out of the pub and grabbed Two-bit roughly by the collar. Two-bit let out a little cry of surprise. "Looks like I'm going to have to show ye some manners, little girl," he growled. "And yer stinkin' friend, too!" Two-bit tried to wrench his arm away, but he hung on.
"Stop it! Let me go!" she yelled. Middy skirted the man's lunge and punched him in the side, but stumbled and was caught by the wrist.
"Shit," Two-bit hissed, her eyes darting urgently for a way out.
Suddenly a shadow fell across them. "You won't want to be doin' that, sorr," someone said softly, almost kindly. Two-bit tried to loosen her collar, which was pressed uncomfortably against her windpipe, and peered up at the speaker.
But he's no more than a—"Boy," their assailant slurred, "Ye best stay outta this one." He was obviously amused by the baby-faced, curly-headed kid's assertion.
"I'm afraid I can't, sorr. Ya see, it's me job, and Brian's, to keep some bit of order here. This"—he gestured to Two-bit and Middy, who had frozen into their respective resistant stances—"ain't order. I think ye've had quite enough to drink, and if ye'll just be on your way—" He made a move as if to free Middy, who was closest. Two-bit noticed the stained apron around his waist and deduced that he must work at the bar.
"Why, ye're nothin' but a pipsqueak," the drunk barked, and yanked Midnight away.
"Ouch!" Middy yelped indignantly.
"Oh, that I may be," the boy replied benignly, stepping back. "But I don't believe you've met my colleague.—oy, Brian, come 'ead." An enormous, burly specimen stepped from the shadows and folded his arms suggestively, gazing steadily at the drunk.
"Ye'll want to let them ladies go," he said with a concerned nod.
Two-bit's eyes darted to Middy. She grinned and jerked her head in the direction of the brawny barhand. Middy glowered, still trying (albeit halfheartedly) to get free.
The drunk seemed pitifully undersized compared with the ox of a barhand. He frowned and swore a bit under his breath, then reluctantly shoved the girls from him. Two-bit staggered, then set to massaging her neck. "WHAT a gentleman," she murmured sarcastically to Middy. Middy continued to glare at Two-bit, who quickly looked back to their attacker.
"Brian, if ye'd be good enough to escort our friend to the curb," the curly-haired boy said shortly.
"Uh—thanks," Middy said to him, then quickly added, "—sir. Thanks, sir." Two-bit nodded vigorously. The two hurriedly turned and were about to hightail it home when Two-bit felt a light thump on her shoulder. She turned.
The boy leveled a stony gaze at her. "I've no patience for the likes of you two, stirrin' up trouble fer it's own sake. I've got quite enough to take care of without a coupla ratty girls provokin' the payin' customers. See that ye steer clear of us now on, hear?"
Two-bit's mouth dropped open and she forgot about the lodging house. "You're blamin' US?" she screeched.
"Two-bit," Middy hissed warningly as she tried to pull her friend away by the elbow, but Two-bit resisted.
"For your information, buddy, we're payin' customers too. And a fine job you're doin', tellin' us not to fill yer own damn pockets!" He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, and let his gray eyes stray impatiently to the tavern door.
"Yeah, fine, go back to keepin' the peace, we'll steer clear," Two-bit spat. "But don't think it's because we're scared of your hired goon, ya pansy showoff."
"TWO-BIT!" Middy yanked on Two-bit's hand.
"God in heaven, Middy, I'd rather I'd blown my money on Ripken than spent it in that goddamned pub," Two-bit muttered. The boy paused for half a beat, looking after them, then disappeared again into the noise and warmth of the pub.
"Yeah, I wish you had, too," Middy growled, as they started at last for the lodging house, still rubbing their sores.