Author's Note: This story is an entry in the Newsies Pape Selling Competition: Circulation Four: Jobs. This is kind of a mix of assignment two and three.
Assignment Two: This is for the "bad boys" (nah just kidding these kids weren't bad they were fine) who ended up on the gangs maybe before they became a newsie. That's basically it, write about a newsie being a gang member before becoming a newsie or something of the sort. (Information is provided below.)
Assignment Three: Write about the job of a newsboy after he was too old for the "newsboy profession" (hahahahaha ... references only the Broadway fans will get. sigh. or if you just watch a lot of newsie things on YouTube...wasn't even a true reference but hey I try. Also once more, examples will be provided below.).
It's not what I wanted it to be, but it was one of those late at night things :) Enjoy and thank you for reading!
Law school would have never been part of his plan if David hadn't met Jack Kelly and ended up helping lead a rag tag group of boys in a strike against some of the most powerful men in New York. It still wouldn't have come up if David hadn't seen the condition of his friends after one night in the refuge and heard the trumped up charges against Jack and Race and the rest. And it absolutely would not have been part of his plan if he hadn't realized that one of the best ways he could help people in the future was to become a public defender. Jack was doing well for himself as a crime beat reporter under Denton's tutelage and he'd often pass David a few names of people who could use assistance in navigating the corrupt justice system. So despite his father's hesitation and his own struggles with self-confidence, David started feeling pretty good about what good he was doing in the world.
Then he walked into the holding cell that Monday morning and felt the sure, smooth path crumble under his feet.
The man sitting before him was taller, more muscular than he remembered. Exhaustion was evident by his pale skin and stubble-covered chin but those blue eyes had lost none of their intensity over the years.
"You seem surprised."
David glanced down at the file in his right hand, back at the defendant, and then back down at the file.
"You're Murphy?"
"Am I?" If David was unsure before, that feeling vanished the moment he saw the smirk. "Could be, could be not."
"So you gave a false name?" David flipped through the file but there is only the one name typed at the top of each page. The signature is illegible and David doesn't doubt that is exactly what Spot wanted when he wrote it.
"Way to keep up, Jacobs. Guess that fancy degree was well worth the money." For a minute David is right back to being the nervous kid standing on the docks of the East River but he recovers.
"It might help keep you out of prison so I'd say it's worth a little something."
David took a seat, shuffling through the paperwork as Spot tapped his fingers impatiently on the table. David realized Spot was still handcuffed. It shouldn't have seemed like that big of a deal considering his other clients but seeing the once proud King of Brooklyn handcuffed and downtrodden was something new.
"You got a cigarette?"
"S-sorry?" David looked up from the list of charges. Disorderly conduct, intoxication, assault and battery and attempted murder..
"A cigarette," Spot repeated his request.
"No, I don't smoke," David told him. He set a pencil and blank piece of paper on the table and pushed it across to Spot. "So, which charge do you want to start with?"
Spot eyed the pencil with annoyance. "Unless you want that up your ass, I suggest you start by getting me a fucking cigarette, Jacobs."
David gulped and patted his pockets down even as he knew there was no cigarette to be found there.
"Christ. Ask the fucking guard," Spot explained with a roll of his eyes.
David was surprised by the guard's affability and set the cigarette he paid for down in front of Spot.
"Match?"
David felt like a child as he shamefacedly obtained a match and passed it over to Spot. He could only imagine what the guard must have thought and what that would do for his reputation among the other jailers.
Smoke wafted across the table as Spot exhaled smoothly and for the first time since David had entered the room Spot appeared at ease. Of course, as David well knew, that was nothing more than an illusion. It was probably best that Spot was still handcuffed, at least in David's expert opinion.
"These are some pretty serious charges," David stated, looking down at the file again.
"Surprised there ain't more?" Spot asked.
"No, not at all," David said, trying to recover but Spot didn't appear to buy it.
"So, what happened? Jacky-boy got wind of me in here and sent you as a joke?"
"I think he thought I could help."
"And what if I don't want your help?"
"Think about how well you did last time you weren't represented by council," David told him, referring back to the trial during the strike. "I remember the judge was less than impressed."
Spot didn't even blink. "Look at you, growing a backbone. Bravo."
David felt a flush creep up the back of his neck as Spot gazed at him evenly and there was some question in David's mind as to what his next step should be. Law school had covered any number of issues, but it hadn't exactly told him how to deal with a situation like Spot Conlon.
"Ok, so what do you want to start with?" David asked, hoping the conversation would go easier now that Spot appeared to be in a slightly better mood.
"You're the lawyer."
"Well, why don't you tell me what happened."
"Look, Mouth, this is gonna go one way so don't get yourself all outta joint. No matter what I tell you happened, they already got their story."
David chose to ignore the reference to his less than flattering nickname and tried to come at the problem from a different angle.
"It says here there was a woman involved. Girlfriend of yours?" David asked.
For the first time David understood why people claimed that silence could be deafening. He had assumed it would be an innocent question and give him a witness that he could interview since Spot was being so stubborn. But it was not the question to ask and David came to that realization quickly as Spot glared at him with a look of pure hate and rage that darkened his pale skin.
"I'm-I mean-sorry," David stammered. "I just thought maybe she could help."
For a split second David saw Spot's eyes flicker as the mask of indifference slipped but it was gone before he knew it.
"You want to do something for me, Jacobs? Find her and let me know she's okay."
David swallowed hard and considered his next step. Bargaining with Spot was something he had never been sure of and time hadn't made things any easier.
"Can I ask a question?"
"You just did."
"Who is she? What does she have to do with all of this?"
"Like I said, find her and let me know she's okay. Then, we'll talk."
"Five questions."
"Two."
"Three and I'll throw in a pack of cigarettes next time." Spot considered the offer and then nodded once in agreement.
"What happened?"
"Figures you go for the big question first, Dave." Spot flicked cigarette ash onto the floor and studied David for a moment. "Basically, I tried to kill a guy, didn't, and now I'm in here talking to you. Next."
"That isn't exactly an answer."
Spot exhaled toward the ceiling and settled back in his chair with the same smirking look he was known for. "Next question."
David rubbed the back of his neck and shifted uncomfortably. "Um, I don't really think that giving me one or two word answers is fulfilling your part of the deal."
"You got two left, Jacobs."
"Fine," Dave said, exasperated. "I'll try again. What happened?"
"Same as before. You sure you want to waste your time asking twice?"
"I need information if I'm going to do anything to help."
"There's this fella who runs a pub down in the Bowery and is running a pretty good opium operation on the side. Not too long ago he got a permit letting him open a lounge, which is just a front for his girls. Makes things look more on the up and up. He likes hooking 'em young, pumping 'em full of opium and keeping them under his thumb. I had a little issue with that. Satisfied now? Last question."
"All right, fine. So who is this woman I'm supposed to find? What does she have to do with anything?"
"That's two questions."
David cursed under his breath and for the first time he saw what could have been a glimmer of a smile cross Spot's face.
"Ok, so who is she?"
"She's my wife," Spot admitted with a hard look. "And it's 'cause of her that I'm in here."