Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original characters from the Disney movie, "Newsies."
Hi again, guys. Back with another Newsies fan fiction :D I'm in the process of writing this one, so updates may be a little slower than usual (sorry) but I'll try to get the chapters out as quickly as possible. This story's pretty different from the rest, and I still can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing. I'll let you guys be the judges, I guess. So here's the first chapter.
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The snow had finally melted off the dirty apartment stoops and the rooftops that touched the skyline. Rare patches of grass along the streets that had, all winter long, kept a lifeless yellow color, were beginning to fade back to green.
Once in a while you'd come across a tree whose leaves were already starting to bud. And the people of Manhattan, New York, who had been hiding away from the cold all winter, were finally starting to crowd the sidewalks and parks again.
The first day of spring had been nearly a week before, but the weather had stayed harsh until now. It wasn't a perfect day outside or anything. Clouds still covered the sun that had been trying to peek out all day. But the air was much warmer and all the clues that winter had been particularly brutal that year were starting to slip away.
The sidewalk was filled with venders, bustling adults, and children who were running and playing. The cobblestone streets were filled with horse-drawn carriages. So I balanced on the curb between the sidewalk and the street, looking down at my feet as I put one foot in front of the other. The sound of a piercing whistle echoed off some of the buildings from far off, but I didn't pay much attention to it. The cops were always after somebody.
Someone bumped into my shoulder with theirs as they strode by, obviously in a rush judging by their quick pace. I lost my stability and slipped off the curb into the street, but I was able to keep my footing. When I looked up to see who had bumped into me, I was surprised to find that he was looking back at me cautiously, as if I had been the one who bumped into him. The boy of about 16 quickly turned his head forward again and quickened his pace even more as soon as I had met his gaze.
I shrugged it off and stepped back onto the curb, beginning to walk again. I was deep in thought as I stared down at my feet, and the conversation going on around me was shoved into my subconscious.
A business man around 30 years old was conversing with a cop. The two of them were standing on the side of the road, right next to the horse that belonged to the police officer.
"Yes. It was brown and made out of leather." The business man informed him. The cop nodded and looked at the notepad he was writing in. "And you're positive you didn't drop it?" He asked without looking up.
"No. I had it until some street rat bumped into me." The man stated in disgust. "Did you get a good look at the kid?" The business man shook his head. "No... By the time I realized my wallet was gone, the kid was already halfway down the block. I tried to yell for him to stop but as soon as he realized I was on his tail, he took off running."
The cop happened to look up at the exact minute that I was passing by. I could feel his eyes on me and I nervously side glanced at him. "Excuse me, miss...Stop right there." He instructed.
I stopped walking and looked at him. "Why...?" I asked cautiously. "I didn't do nuttin'." The cop ignored my statement and walked over, watching me like a hawk. "Please empty your pockets." The cop said. My eyes grew wide. "But I told ya, I didn't do nuttin'!"
"Then empty your pockets!" He demanded, starting to get aggravated. I sighed and muttered angrily to myself, reaching into my pockets so I could turn them inside out and show them that I had absolutely nothing. This is crazy. They automatically assume I did somethin' wrong, just because I don't dress like I'm high status.
My hand touched something that made my face go completely white. Leather. I took the object out of my pocket and stared at it, stunned. "My wallet!" The man yelled, snatching it out of my hands. "But...! But I didn't take it!" I exclaimed. The cop ignored my protests and grabbed my wrists, quickly binding them together.
From over the police officer's shoulder, I caught a glimpse of the boy who had bumped into me. He was watching the whole scene unfold while crouching behind a sign outside a bakery. The little rat! He must've slipped it into my pocket when he found out he was going to get caught!
"Let go a'me! I didn't do it! It was dat guy, over dere!" I yelled, pointing across the street. The boy quickly ducked behind the sign so he wasn't visible anymore.
Still keeping a firm hold on my wrist, the cop glanced over his shoulder. The only person he could see was the baker, who was standing outside his shop and having a cigarette. " Are you trying to tell me that Mr. Holland, the baker, set you up?"
I desperately tried to explain to him, but he was already shaking his head in disapproval and pulling me towards a carriage that had just slowed to a stop in the street in front of us. "We got another one..." The cop mumbled to the driver. He threw me in the back of the carriage and swung the door closed, locking the bars in place.
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A smirk was starting to form on the corner of Skittery's mouth as he looked down at his fanned-out cards. He was never the best at poker faces.
He cautiously laid down his cards while Mush and Kid Blink followed suit, all of them examining the hands. Skittery had a full house, while the most any of the other boys had was a single pair. "Yes!" Skittery exclaimed, throwing his fist in the air.
He reached for the money that had accumulated in the middle of the table during the course of the game. However, in all his excitement, Skittery had forgotten about Racetrack. Five cards were thrown down on top of the coins. 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, all clubs. A straight flush.
"Tisk, tisk, tisk..." Racetrack mumbled, smirking. "C'mon, Skitts. Ya know better than to doubt me." The three boys groaned as Race slid the money to his side of the table. "That's gotta be da fourth game he won tonight!" Mush pointed out, a look of disbelief on his face.
"Fifth." Race corrected, taking short puffs on his cigar. "Whadda ya say we make it six, huh?" He smirked again and collected all the cards to put them in a single pile so he could shuffle them. "You gotta be kiddin' me." Skittery said, pushing his chair away from the table to show that he was out. "Mush?" Race asked. Mush shook his head frantically and put his hands up, indicating that he was done, also.
"Blink?" He turned to Kid Blink, who shook his head. "Sorry, Race. You'se already cleaned me out. Besides, I think I'se gonna go visit Crutchy." A couple of days ago, the boy had landed himself in the refuge for apparently "Provoking a fight" with a high-status teenager roughly his age. All the newsies knew that Crutchy wasn't guilty of anything. He was one of the most lighthearted and polite of all of them. As far as newsies go, anyway. But, as always, the bulls refused to listen to anything a street rat had to say.
"And how do ya figure you'se gonna do dat? Dey ain't gonna let ya in!" Skittery exclaimed. "Yeah, he's right. Eva' since Jackie-Boy escaped da refuge for da ninth time" -Racetrack exaggerated, but not by much- "Da guards know dat lettin' a newsie in to see anudder newsie means trouble for 'em."
"Ya know, Race... Dey've got dese crazy things called windows..." Blink said sarcastically, grinning at him while he stood up. "Jus' be careful, a'right Blink?" Mush warned. "Or else it ain't gonna be gettin' ya in dat'll be da problem. It'll be gettin' ya out."
"A'right, a'right. Any of ya bums wanna tag along?' Kid Blink asked. He looked from Skittery and Mush over to Racetrack. "How 'bout you, Race?"
He shook his head. "I would, Blink... But I'se gotta head down to Sheepshead. Yesterday, I got dis hot tip on a horse—" The three boys interrupted his story with groans. Everyone knew that Racetrack's "hot tips" always ended up pretty cold.
Blink walked over to the refuge around the same time that dusk was setting in. From the shadows along the gate, he examined the building and tried to figure out which cell his friend had been placed in. Blink hoped that Crutchy didn't get put in one of the second floor cells, because he hadn't thought to bring a rope with him before he left.
Checking to make sure there weren't any guards in sight, Kid Blink quickly climbed the gate and jumped it, landing with a soft thud on the other side.
A clap of thunder from far off made Blink look up. More clouds were starting to roll in, making the skies even more threatening. The air around him was warm and moist, promising one of those early-spring thunderstorms.
"Better get goin' if I wanna find Crutchy..." He muttered to himself. "It looks like it's gonna pour."
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Great... Looks like it's gonna pour. I thought, staring up at the sky through the metal bars. A clap of thunder had brought me over to the window, and made me aware of how bad a rainstorm would be right about now.
My refuge cell was dug below the ground. The only part that had been built above ground was a few feet below the ceiling, where the little square window was. If it was to rain hard enough, all the water would roll in through the barred window and flood the cell at least a few inches.
I sighed and retreated back to the bed, sitting down on the mattress that was hard as stone. Hell, for all I knew it could have been stone under that old thin blanketing. The cell had a depressing mood to it as I looked around. The only glow came from a lit candle on the opposite side of the room, casting its light onto the stone bricks behind it.
I had been in the refuge a few times before, but this time I really didn't do anything. If I had just listened to my friends, none of this would have happened. I should have gone back to the orphanage with the rest of them instead of taking the long way back to the place I called home.
The candle burned closer and closer to the wax until it finally flickered and went out, leaving me in complete darkness. The constant sound of dripping water echoed off the walls. I listened to it and let my mind wander until another sound broke me out of my thoughts.
There was shuffling in the grass outside the window. I could barely see the shadow of someone out there. "Hey... Crutchy. Crutch, ya in heah?" Someone whispered.
I cautiously got up from the bed and wandered over to the window, coming face to face with a boy around my age. "Woah... You ain't Crutchy." He said. I smirked at him. "I would hope not." I replied dryly.
He searched my face, trying to figure out if I was being spiteful or just joking around. I took the opportunity to stare back at him to take in his features. The boy had a brown eye patch over his left eye. From under a brown newsboy cap, I could tell that his hair was a golden color. It would have hung over his eyes if it wasn't carelessly swept to the side of his forehead.
Finally deciding that I meant well with my sarcasm, his face lit up and he shot me an amazing smile. "Sorry for distoibin' ya, miss." He said, tipping his hat in my direction and heading over to the window belonging to the cell located left of mine. "Wait!" I called after him. He came back over and crouched next to the window. "Yep?" he asked.
"If yer lookin' for Crutchy, you'se goin' da wrong way." I told him. He tilted his head in confusion and raised an eyebrow. "Ya know him?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Nah, but I'se seen him when I came in heah. And anyone who can't make da connection from a name like dat ain't too bright." The boys' grin widened and he laughed. "He's a few cells down dat way." I said, pointing to the right.
"Hey! You, what're ya doin'!?" A deep voice yelled. I couldn't see who was outside, but I guessed it was a guard. "Woops... Gotta go." The kid said quickly. "Thanks for yer help!" he called, sprinting off in the other direction.
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Thanks for reading!