This was written for the second circulation of the Newsies Pape Selling Competition: "Oldsies Meet Newsies". I entered a sort of writing flurry with this one, and my small plot snowballed into something much larger. I hope you all like it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Once again the amazing cover art was done my my friend Charlotte!
I've decided to make the little fact list I put at the end of my last story a common occurrence, so stay tuned for a mini history lesson at the end of this story.
Requirements:
Task: Your Newsies meet in the movie theater.
Newsies Used: Katherine and Denton (I also sort of used Jack and Jack, but my main characters were Katherine and Denton)
Prompts:
Dialogue: "This shouldn't be possible."
Word count: 4,060 (without author's notes)
3rd person POV
"Careful! That's the third time you've almost dropped it! Do you have any idea how much that thing costs?!"
"No. But I have a feeling you're gonna tell me."
"I overheard the man dropping this off; it cost more money to make that film then we make in a year. So, for crying out loud, be careful with it!"
"Got it."
The man sighed, shifting the heavy film reel slightly in his arms.
The two workers were making their way up the back staircase of the newly converted vaudeville theater. Twisting and turning through the dressing rooms, ropes, and sand bags that had been left behind by the theater's previous occupants, they finally reached the office from which the films would shine out over the audience.
"Gently!"
"That was gentle!"
"No it wasn't!"
The man rolled his eyes, shaking his head at his coworker. As much as he wanted to say something smart in reply it was safer to take a more amicable approach and change the subject.
"That thing was hea-vy!"
He stretched, relieving cramping muscles.
"Course it was. It's huge and metal. You've carried them before; its weight shouldn't come as any surprise."
"But it was heavier than normal."
"Then maybe it has all four installments, not just one."
"It can't be. The Vitagraph Company of America is releasing this flicker over three months. Mr. Grey said so."
"Well look at you, a hoity-toity know it all. Since you're so sure it can't be all four parts, why don't we just see what it is."
"What! No! We can't! Mr. Grey'll fire us!"
His amicable pretense was quickly shed as his coworker picked up the reel.
"Not if you don't tell."
"I…"
His colleague was already setting the heavy reel up on the projector.
"Don't!"
"I'm not going to project it. I'll just get some of the light so I can see the strips... There! What does that say?"
The man blinked at the film strip that had been shoved under his noise.
"N… E… W… S… I… E… S, Newsies. Ain't those the kids who sell papers?"
His coworker snorted.
"What'd they do to get their own flicker?"
The man shrugged, staring at the film strip a moment longer.
"We should get going."
His coworker made towards the door.
"Wait! What about the reel?"
"Leave it."
"But…"
"Leave it!"
Neither man noticed that the movie reel started to glow silver as they left the room. And they were too far down the stairs to notice the man in a brown vest and red bow-tie walk out of the room a few minutes after them.
Katherine checked her watch.
"I've got to get going," she informed the table in general.
It was the first Saturday of the month, and those of the strike newsies who still lived in new York and could get away from work were sitting around several tables pushed together in Jacobi's, as had become their tradition. Despite never being a newsie herself, Katherine went to almost every lunch. Often times other spouses would show up as well.
"Where you goin', Plums?"
"Race, I am Katherine Kelly now –and I have been for seven years. Continuing to call me 'Plums' makes no sense. And I'm going to the nickelodeon over on 12th street."
"Nah. You're still Plums to us. Just like I'm still Race, and Mush is still Mush, and Crutchie's still…"
Crutchie cut Race off. "Why are you going to the nickelodeon?"
"I'm reviewing a motion picture version of Les Misérables. Mr. Laffan had the brilliant idea to publish a review of a motion picture the same way we publish reviews of plays. So, of course he had to choose the one being released very slowly in four installments."
"I thought Mr. Laffan promised you that you wouldn't have to review anything anymore?"
Over the years since the strike, Katherine had made a name for herself as a muckraker, however much she loathed the term.
"It's become derogatory!" she would exclaim whenever she heard the word. "When the term was first used the 'muck' was political corruption and social ills that were being uncovered. Now most people think that the 'muck' is all the factory workers and immigrants and asylum patents that the reporter sifts through to uncover the corruption. Using that connotation implies that they're all beneath everyone else and they aren't! If you aren't going to use it properly don't use it at all!" After hearing this spiel several times, the newsies decided the best course of action was just to nod and make non-committal noises until she stopped ranting.
However, Mr. Laffan had promised her that she would never have to review a vaudeville or flower show again, provided she continued to boost circulation with her muckraking.
"Yeah, well, I'm apparently the only reporter on The Sun's payroll who doesn't have a conflict at least one of the four days an installment is being released over the next three months."
"Why not just release one review for each installment?" asked Davey, ever the logical one.
"I don't know. Mr. Laffan just didn't want to. And as editor he has final say."
"That's dumb," piped up Les. Although he was nearing on twenty years old and well on his way to getting a scholarship to law school, Les still maintained the same mentality he had when he was a kid.
"Don't I know it."
Katherine stood up, shouldering the satchel she had "borrowed" from Jack to hold her notebooks and pencils.
"Jack, don't forget to thank Ms. Jacobs for watching the girls as well as Robert and Ethel. Bye, guys."
She gave Jack a quick peck, waved goodbye to the boys, and headed out to the nickelodeon.
The theater was surprisingly uncrowded when Katherine walked up to the ticket office. She paid the nickel entrance fee, and the informed the man behind the counter that she was the report The Sun had sent.
"Yes, ma'am. Mr. Grey told us you were comin' and told us to tell ya he reserved a seat for ya up front. He said he put a paper on it that says 'reserved for da reporter from da sun.' Do ya need help to find it?"
"No, thank you," she looked at the pin on his lapel, "Patrick."
"Well, just find one of us if ya need anything."
Katherine thanked him again, and then went off in search of the seat. When she finally found it, she discovered that someone was already sitting in it.
"Excuse me. That's my seat. Did you not see the sign?"
The man was wearing a brown suit with a red bowtie and had styled his hair with Dapper Dan or some similar product. Between the way he was dressed and the fact that he was writing in a leather notebook, Katherine was fairly certain that the reason he had sat there was not because he couldn't read the sign.
"Yes, miss. I did see the sign. How may I help you?"
Katherine held out her hand.
"Katherine Kelly, reporter for The Sun."
"Bryan Denton, I also write for The Sun. I don't believe I've seen you at the office before. I am primarily a war correspondent –with a few exceptions, and I am in other countries a good deal, so I suppose that's not that odd."
Denton held out his hand, and Katherine shook it.
"Nice to meet you."
"And you as well. I assume Mr. Gammon sent you here to replace me reviewing this movie?"
"You assume wrong. I don't know any Mr. Gammon, and I would certainly not have been sent here to replace you. Quite the opposite, actually."
"Mr. Gammon is the publisher of The Sun. Which you should know, seeing as you work for The Sun."
Denton's voice was calm and straightforward, even as his posture tensed.
"I'm starting to wonder if we work for the same newspaper, Mr. Denton. Mr. Laffan is the publisher of the The Sun, and has been since 1884."
The lights of the nickelodeon started to dim, signifying five minutes to the start of the film.
"There is no Mr. Laffan at The Sun, nor has there ever been as far as I know."
Katherine narrowed her eyes. Mr. Laffan personally hired every reporter for The Sun. It would be impossible for this Mr. Denton to work for The Sun and not know William Laffan.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to see some proof that you really do write for The Sun."
"Alright, Ms. Kelly, I'll show you my proof if you show me yours."
Katherine reached into her bag and pulled out a notebook with clippings of her articles. Flipping through it she came to a page that contained one of her articles that had made the front page.
"Here."
She showed it to Denton.
"February 3rd, 1908. Front page of the Morning Sun: Supreme Court rules a union boycott violates Sherman Antitrust Act, article by Katherine Kelly."
Denton scanned the article, and then handed Katherine a creased newspaper clipping with ragged edges.
"It appears we are both in the habit of carrying our old articles around with us. That's the article I wrote, published by The Sun, about the newsboys strike of 1899."
"What do you mean, 'that you wrote about the newsboys' strike of 1899'? I wrote the article about the strike."
"Sure you did." scoffed Denton "And I suppose you also wrote the article the boys published in the Newsies Banner."
"I most certainly did!"
Denton opened his mouth to speak, but the man from the ticket office, Patrick, appeared, cutting him off.
"'Scuse me, sir, ma'am, but if ya aren't going to sit down and watch the flicker, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
The two reporters glared at each other.
"Shall we continue this outside?"
"We shall."
Katherine turned on her heal and stalked up the aisle, Denton hot on her heals.
Once they had exited the nickelodeon into the blinding light of the afternoon, Katherine rounded on Denton.
"I want to know exactly who you are, what you're doing here, and why you claimed to have written those articles."
"And I should like to know the same about you, Ms. Kelly."
"Kelly," muttered Katherine.
"What was that?"
"Kelly. Since you claim to have written the article on the strike, I assume you know Jack Kelly was the leader of the strike."
"Yes."
"Well, then I propose we go find him, and ask him who wrote the article. And then we can go to The Sun's headquarters so I we can talk with Mr. Laffan."
"And I suppose you know were Jack Kelly is at this given date and time."
"Of course I do. He's my husband."
And with that Katherine set off down the street, leaving Denton no choice but to follow her.
"What do you mean your husband?" huffed Denton as he and Katherine slowed to a stop in front of the tenement building Davey's parents lived in. "Jack married Sarah, I was at the wedding."
Katherine ignored him, having spotted Jack on the opposite side of the street.
"Jack!" she called, hurrying across the street, leaving Denton in her wake again.
Jack, who had been staring motionlessly at the building, turned toward her voice.
"Jack!" she called again.
"Do I know you?"
"Wha… ye… I…" sputtered Katherine.
"Uh… should I know you? Are you a friend of Sarah's?"
Jack turned to Denton, who had come up behind Katherine.
"Ah. Denton! How's the writing going. Is this lady your girlfriend?"
Jack clapped Denton on the back.
"Um, excuse us a moment."
Denton grabbed Katherine's elbow, escorting her out of hearing distance of Jack, who was watching after them with a bemused smirk.
"That's not Jack. He talks like Jack, but he doesn't look like him. Who is he?"
"I… don't know. I mean, he looks like Jack, but he seemed to have no idea who I was. And who the heck is Sarah?!"
"Hey, Ace!" called out a voice.
The two reporters turned to see a very different Jack Kelly jogging up to them.
"Whatcha doing here?" he gave a stunned Katherine a quick peck on the cheek, tickling her with his red bandana.
"I thought you were reviewing that movie? I was just about to pick up the girls." Jack caught sight of Denton and Katherine's shocked faces. "Who's this? Is everything okay?"
"He looks like my Jack, but…"
"Hey mister, I don't belong to nobody. And if anyone's got the right to call me theirs it would be Katherine."
"Jack, come here a minute."
Katherine grabbed Jack's arm, dragging him over to where the other Jack stood. She positioned the two next to each other, and stepped back to observe them.
"Kath, what's…"
"Denton, what's…"
The two Jack's spoke at the same time, and turned to the other in shock. Their eyes meet briefly, before they promptly collapsed on top of each other in a heap.
Katherine shrieked, jumping back in shock.
"What the…"
The two reporters turned to each other, eyes wide, before rushing forwards to check the two Jack Kellys.
"Nothing appears to be wrong with them," stated Denton.
"You mean, other than the fact that there are two of them, and your Jack appears to have my Jack's memories and vice versa?"
"Well yes, but that was implied."
Katherine sighed, rubbing her eyes.
"What do we do with them?"
"Let's just get them to the side of the road for now."
Much maneuvering later, the two Jacks were propped up against a wall in the mouth of an alley. The two reporters sat down next to them, simultaneously pulling out their notebooks.
"What do we currently know?"
"We both were in the theater for the same purpose: to review Les Misérables for The Sun."
"Right, but we were both sent by different publishers, and neither of us had ever heard of the publisher that sent the other."
The reports both scribbled this down, slowly listing all the information that they knew and needed to know.
Once they were done Denton sighed. "This is crazy. It all sounds like the plot of a Lewis Carroll novel."
"That's it!" exclaimed Katherine.
"What's it?"
"Through the Looking Glass."
"What?"
"The book, Through the Looking Glass."
"Never read it. I read Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, but I never had time to read the second one."
"I have a copy back at home."
Katherine stood up.
"Do you think it would be okay to leave them here?" she asked, gesturing at the two Jacks.
Denton stood up, and looked out over the street. Everywhere people were collapsing in heaps, just like the Jacks had.
"It should be fine. I don't think anyone will bother them any time soon."
"Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There," Katherine read, turning the well-loved book over in her hands.
They were in the Kelly's apartment, stand next to a book shelf that was overflowing with care-worn books.
"Now, if you'll only attend, Kitty," read Katherine, putting every bit as much inflection into her voice as she did when reading to her daughters.
"…and not talk so much, I'll tell you all my ideas about Looking-glass House. First, there's the room you can see through the glass—that's just the same as our drawing room, only the things go the other way. I can see all of it when I get upon a chair—all but the bit behind the fireplace. Oh! I do so wish I could see THAT bit! I want so much to know whether they've a fire in the winter: you never CAN tell, you know, unless our fire smokes, and then smoke comes up in that room too—but that may be only pretense, just to make it look as if they had a fire. Well then, the books are something like our books, only the words go the wrong way; I know that, because I've held up one of our books to the glass, and then they hold up one in the other room.
'How would you like to live in Looking-glass House, Kitty? I wonder if they'd give you milk in there? Perhaps Looking-glass milk isn't good to drink—But oh, Kitty! Now we come to the passage. You can just see a little PEEP of the passage in Looking-glass House, if you leave the door of our drawing-room wide open: and it's very like our passage as far as you can see, only you know it may be quite different on beyond. Oh, Kitty! How nice it would be if we could only get through into Looking-glass House! I'm sure it's got, oh! Such beautiful things in it! Let's pretend there's a way of getting through into it, somehow, Kitty. Let's pretend the glass has got all soft like gauze, so that we can get through. Why, it's turning into a sort of mist now, I declare! It'll be easy enough to get through—'
She was up on the chimney-piece while she said this, though she hardly knew how she had got there. And certainly the glass WAS beginning to melt away, just like a bright silvery mist.
In another moment Alice was through the glass, and had jumped lightly down into the Looking-glass room."
"Lovely reading. But what, may I ask, was the point."
"The point, Mr. Denton, was that, well… what if something like that is going on here? In the book Alice goes through the mirror to another universe. What if the two of us are from different universes?"
"Ms. Kelly that seems a bit far-fetched. What proof do we have that more than one universe exists?"
"Think about it! The two of us both work for The Sun –in the same year seeing as both of us were sent to review a motion picture only just released today, but under two different publishers. We both wrote the same article for The Sun about the newsies' strike as well as the article for the newsies banner. And we've never met before today. We both know a Jack Kelly, but my Jack looks different and has different memories than your Jack. This even explains why the Jacks collapsed –if they're from different universes than they weren't ever supposed to meet. It was a defense mechanism to prevent them from messing either of the universes up!" the longer Katherine explained her theory the louder and faster she talked.
"But if we are alternate versions of each other, as your theory suggests, how come we didn't collapse upon meeting each other?"
"Um..."
"Wait –you're married to Jack."
Katherine nodded.
"In my universe Jack married Sarah Jacobs. So, technically, you are the alternate version of Sarah and myself."
"That means that the only way we would collapse the way the Jacks did would be if you, me and Sarah were all to meet!"
"Exactly! And we are clearly in your universe, and we are standing in your apartment, not mine."
"This makes so much sense!"
Denton nodded.
"As far as we know, we are the only ones to have figured this out…"
"Which means… if we were to come across Sarah and collapse, then no one would be aware of the fact that two dimensions have crossed?!"
"My thoughts, exactly. Therefore, no one would be able to fix it before something goes horribly wrong."
"Then we've got to get you back to your universe!"
"We've got to figure out how I got here in the first place, first of all."
"Okay… what do you remember from this morning?"
Katherine sat down and began to scribble down notes as Denton described his morning.
"So, I arrived at the nickelodeon and asked an usher if a seat had been reserved for me. He said one had been, so I followed him to my seat, and then… and then suddenly I was upstairs, following the same man out of a room on the second floor of the building and through the back stage area where I spotted my seat and went to sit down! I thought I had just been so lost in thought that I zoned out until we were upstairs."
"That must have been when you came through from your universe. We've got to go back to the nickelodeon and check that room out!"
"This feels so wrong. New York isn't supposed to be this quiet," said Katherine, speaking for the first time since the reporters left the apartment.
"I know what you mean."
The streets were littered with bodies, all preassembly having fallen unconscious upon meeting their alter egos. With no one bustling about or working, a fog of silence had descended over the city.
The reports entered the nickelodeon, and wove their way through people to reach a set of steps.
"I think it was up this way."
Denton began counting doorways, muttering the numbers under his breath.
"Here we go."
He led the way into a room filled with film reels. One in particular was projecting onto a wall.
Katherine paused to look at it. Credits were rolling, listing the names of characters.
"Denton!"
"What?"
"Your name! It just said your name of the film!"
"How much do you want to make a bet that's how I got here in the first place?"
"That's one bet I'd take."
"The real question is, how do I get back through?"
Katherine walked back and forth, observing the projected images from all angles, while Denton examined the projector itself.
"Figure anything out?"
"No, but I have an idea."
Denton leaned over the projector, fiddling with a set of nobs. The projector lightbulb sparked, causing him to jump back in alarm.
"You don't know what you're doing, do you?"
"No. But, I don't suppose you know anything about film projectors either."
"No." Katherine sighed. "Let's try something that doesn't involve expensive equipment and reels of film."
"What does Alice do in in the book, again?"
"Um… She enters the mirror slowly, imagining it as she goes."
Katherine dug through her bag.
"Here, I brought the book with me."
"Read the bit you read earlier again, and I'll try to mimic what Alice does."
"Okay… Um… 'Let's pretend the glass has got all soft like gauze, so that we can get through.' Try extending your hand into the image, and imagine it's soft like gauze. 'Why, it's turning into a sort of mist now, I declare! It'll be easy enough to get through—' Is it working?"
"It's working!"
"Good! Keep at it! 'She was up on the chimney-piece while she said this, though she hardly knew how she had got there. And certainly the glass WAS beginning to melt away, just like a bright silvery mist…'"
There was a blinding flash of silver, and when it cleared, Katherine was alone it the room. Denton, the film reel and its mysterious projection were nowhere to be seen.
"Hey, Ace!"
Katherine turned in her chair to face her husband. She was sitting at her typewriter, writing an article.
"What?"
"I've got something that might appease Mr. Laffan a bit."
"Oh?"
He set an open newspaper in front of her.
"I was out with the girls this morning, and we came across a newsie hawkin' The New York Times. He was having a bad time of it, and so we bought two papes off him. The girls are currently making paper chains out of one, but I decided to read the other and I found this: A review of D.W. Griffith's new motion picture: Pippa Passes; or The Song of Conscience…"
"Looks like The New York Times had the same idea as Mr. Laffan."
"Only they had the sense to write a review of a flicker that wasn't being released in bits. But that's not important. Today's the tenth, and the last piece of the movie you were set to review doesn't come out for what? A month? Even if you had managed to see the flicker you wouldn't have gotten the review done before this came out."
"True. But we didn't know this was going to be published. I still failed to complete my assignment."
"Speaking of, did you ever find out what happened to the people that were lost?"
Katherine nodded.
"They found their way home."
My research that went into this story was not so much a timeline as a list of facts. Here you go if you're interested:
1) By 1909 (When I set this story) there were about 9,000 movie theaters in the United States. The typical film was only a single reel long, or ten- to twelve minutes in length, and the performers were anonymous. Acting in a movie was looked upon as degrading compared with stage acting, so actors were never identified by name.
2) The first feature-length film produced in the US was the Vitagraph Company of America's Les Miserables (1909) - it was based on Victor Hugo's novel. Each reel of the four reel production was released over the course of three months beginning on September 4 to November 27, 1909.
3) The New York Times published the first movie review on October 10, 1909 - a report on D.W. Griffith's Pippa Passes; or The Song of Conscience (1909).
4) William MacKay Laffan was the publisher and editor of The Sun (New York) in the final years of the 19th century and the first years of the 20th. He became publisher of The Sun in 1884.
I also discovered that:
1) The Sun was groundbreaking in its content, being the first newspaper to report crimes, and personal events such as suicides, deaths, and divorces.
2) The Sun was the first to hire reporters to go out and collect stories. Prior to this newspapers relied on readers sending in items, and on pirating stories from other newspapers.
3) Eleanor Hoyt Brainerd was hired by The Sun as a reporter and fashion editor in the 1880s; she was one of the first women to become a professional editor, and perhaps the first full-time fashion editor, in American newspaper history.
If any of you have any interest in watching "Pippa Passes; or The Song of Conscience" it can be found on YouTube. Just search Pippa Passes and it should come up. I watched it out of curiosity and it was very interesting -not in plot but in comparison to the movies we have today. I was unfortunately unable to find Vitagraph Company of America's "Les Miserables".