So this was a complete accident. I definitely had no intention of writing another fic about Jack meeting Race for the first time, but hey, it was fun to write. So I wrote this in Jack's chapter of Sacrifices. But I didn't like the way it fit. So here we are. You don't really have to read that story to understand this one, but I recommend it. ;)
Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one!
I's was just walkin'. When I was younga', I liked ta go ta the Brooklyn Bridge. I used ta draw there. It calmed me. I liked ta hear the wata' and the birds. It was nice. And that short little Brooklyn twerp was not gonna stop me from bein' there. Stupid kid.
I was goin' home. The boys were waitin'. I didn't like ta keep 'em worried fer too long. They's always wanted every boy home on time. Sparks liked ta lock the doors and he neva' liked ta leave a kid out in the cold. But he would if ya broke his rules. So's I knew I shouldn't be late.
But then I heard it. It wasn't a loud noise. But I's had been on the streets foreva'. My stupid ears heard everythin' durin' the day. And the whimpers that was comin' from a little shack next ta a small house weren't any exception.
I rememba just walkin' to it. Like no matta' what was on the otha' side, I had ta stop that sound. I didn't like that sound. It was helpless and sad. So I was gonna stop it.
I had ta break the lock on the door with a rock. Then I slipped inta the room. That was when I saw him. There was a boy. He had curly blond hair and he was covered in dirt and... blood. I's had seen him before. I knew I's'd seen him before. He was that con that all the boys complained about. The one that would use a sort a' charm and a sob story ta get a few cents outta rich folks. He was good. Not as good as me, but he was good. But I neva' expected ta see him like he was.
The kid was tied up, tight. His hands were ova' his head and his feet could barely touch the floor. He was skinner than I woulda eva' thought. He wasn't wearin' a shirt. I could see every bruise he had on his little chest. He was so tiny. I'll neva' forget how he looked like he ain't ate in days. And there was blood in his hair. He musta been hit on the head. It was weird though. I coulda sworn this kid was livin' like a rich man compared ta us. He got loads a' coins everyday fer his stupid stories that he'd tell. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't even say the whole thing in English. And I's seen him pickin' pockets 'round town. I neva' said nothin', though. Didn't matta' if this kid was stealin' or not. He didn't deserve the Refuge. No one did.
There was a rag in the kid's mouth. He couldn't call fer help. He was the one whimperin'. He musta been hurtin' bad the way he was strung up like that. And I wasn't gonna leave him there. I knew what it was like ta be trapped. Ta be hurt. Ta have no one comin' ta save ya. So's I snuck in. I had ta get him out. No one deserved whatever the kid was gettin' in this stupid little, freezin' cold shack.
When I touched him, he flinched and then his eyes opened up real quick. He had the bluest eyes I's had eva' seen. And they were terrified. But when he saw me, he froze. He was confused that I was there. It was like he neva' saw anotha' kid in that room in his life. I got the gag outta his mouth and he started speakin'.
"Uscire da qui ora, o ti prenderanno anche voi!" I didn't understand a word. But the poor kid was panickin'. I knew that much. So I put my hands on both side a' his face and held him still.
"Sh! Kid, calm down!" He didn't. Just kept fightin' against the ropes around his wrists and yellin' at me in a different language I neva' understood. "Hey! I'm gonna help ya! I'm gettin' ya outta here!"
I will neva' forget the way that little kid looked at me. Like it was the first time in his life he'd eva' heard someone talk about lettin' him outta there. "O... out?" His voice was rough and small. I nodded to him.
"Yeah, kid... I'm gettin' ya out." I grabbed a knife from the otha' side a' the room and sliced through the ropes. The little boy fell inta me and I could barely catch him. But I did. And I could hear him tryin' ta catch his breath while his head was on my chest. I was sure he was cryin'. And I didn't blame him. Whateva' was happenin' ta him looked like hell. And he needed out of it.
"Th-thank... you..." From what I's could tell, this kid didn't know English too good. But it didn't matta'. He buried his face in my shirt and held onta it like if he let go, I'd disappear. I rubbed his back while he cried. He was shakin' so hard and he wouldn't let go a' me fer nothin'.
I tried ta talk ta him. He neva' said a thing back. Just kept on cryin'. I asked him questions but he just sobbed onta me. So's I gave up.
"Cmon, kid." He was hurt. I wasn't about ta let him walk all the way back ta Lodgin' House like that. So I picked him up. He was so small I's could carry him around like the youngest kid in the newsies. Romeo. His head was on my shoulder and I held him unda' his knees. "I'm gonna take ya home, yeah? Gonna get ya some food and wata'. And I'm gonna find ya a bed. It's gonna be okay." The kid just kept on cryin'. I wasn't sure he understood what I said, but he seemed ta trust me, so I didn't let him go.
This kid was clearly beaten inta doin' somethin'. I didn't know how long he'd been there and I didn't care. All I knew was, he was gettin' out.
"What's this?" I didn't even know anyone came in. I didn't hear the door open. I was too focused on the kid in my arms. But he just cried harda' when the person behind me started talkin'. I looked up ta see a man. He was 'round twenty years old. He had evil grey eyes and dark black hair. "What the hell do ya think you're doin'?" He had an Irish accent. It was strong. So was the smell a' smoke. And I felt the kid tense up.
"Johnny...?" I heard the kid whisper. His voice was shakin'. "J-Johnny... mmh... I didn't mean ta-"
"What did I tell ya about talkin', Higgins?!" His voice was so loud and he raised up his fist.
The kid screamed and held onta me tighta'. "Per favore! Per favore! Non farlo! Non di nuovo!"
The man stomped ova' to us. The kid flinched and curled in on himself. I didn't move. He didn't scare me. Not much did. But he didn't like that too much. "What the hell are ya doin' here, street rat?"
Street rat. I ain't no rat. I don't sleep in the garbage. I's scoffed. I didn't care that he raised up his hand like he was ready ta hit me. I just ran fer it. Anythin' ta get this kid outta there. But he grabbed the back a' my shirt and stopped me from takin' off. I held the kid tighter and turned ta meet the angry man.
"What were ya doin' ta him?!" I was yellin'. I was doin' all I could do ta get anyone's attention. But no one cared.
"Don't matta'. He belongs ta me and my crew. Our best money maka'." He smirked. "Tells a hell of a story."
Oh. A crew. That's this guy's way of sayin' gang. And this beaten kid needed outta there. Fast. "Not anymore." I wasn't givin' up. The blue eyes that were starin' at me wouldn't let me. God, he was terrified.
"Oh, why's that?" I had an idea. It was a long shot. But it was betta' than nothin'.
"Cause I's got some friends from Brooklyn. Spot Conlon. Eva' heard of him?" That stupid kid actually might save my ass tanight. Save this kid's life. He'd been talkin' bout bein' the toughest newsie in New York fer years. Don't let me down this time, Spottie.
The man laughed. "Spot? Don't sound like much." But I knew how ta spin a story. And I could make even Spot Conlon sound like the strongest kid in all New York.
I laughed. I started spinnin' somethin' on the first thing my eyes saw. "Ya know why they's named him Spot?" I glanced back down at the knife I used ta free the shakin' kid. Poor boy was holdin' onta me so tight. Then I's looked up at the man. I gave him the best glare I had. I was only nine and the man took a step back. What a laugh. "He don't eva' miss." I took anotha' step closa' ta him and smirked. "And if ya don't want me settin' him and his boys off on ya, ya better let us leave."
The man choked outta laugh. "You's lyin'. He's just a stupid kid. Now put my pet down and maybe I'll forget this eva' happened."
No way in hell. This kid hadn't eaten in days. He was soaked, probably only a few minutes 'fore I's found him. I was not about ta leave him here. No way. "Brooklyn ain't the place ya wanna be messin' with mista'." I just let my mouth keep runnin'. I didn't exactly know how ta stop it. "Spot's gotta crew. His boys don't ask questions. And they's don't go easy on no one. Not even a little goil like you."
I rememba' him growlin' at me. Like he was about ta swallow me whole. But then he stopped. He lit a cigar and turned 'round ta do it. So's I grabbed the knife and I threw it. Went right ova' his head. I ran fer my life afta' that and the kid held onta me tighta' than anyone else eva' had.
Spot Conlon would thank me for the rest a' his life. As far as the world would know afta' that night, he was the toughest newsie in all New York. Hell, even the poor kid in my arms was givin' me a scared look when I talked about the futa' king a' Brooklyn just cause a' the tone in my voice.
I saved a boy that night. He was terrified. He wasn't sure where we was goin' or who I was. But I saved his life and I didn't even know it till lata'. Till he'd tell me why he was there and why he was so scared a' that stupid gang.
I rememba' walkin' out in the dark. The kid from the shack was snuggled up against my chest. He was tryin' ta stop shakin'. I didn't know if he was shiverin' from the cold er shakin' cause he hadn't eaten in foreva'. But I knew it was late. No way the door would be unlocked. No way Sparks would let me in now. Not even with the kid. He was too scared a' the bulls comin' in, searchin' the place.
I knew where ta go. Only one place I coulda gone. So's I made my way back ta the bridge. The kid hadn't said a word. He just let me carry him. He didn't want me ta let him go. I was sure he was two or three years younga' than me. He had ta be. He was so small. And he was so light. I's had been carryin' him for a while and I wasn't even tired. But I found out a little later, he was eight years old. Only one year younga' than me. It just couldn't be...
His head was too heavy for him ta hold up. He had ta lay it down on my shoulder. His arms were crossed ova' his chest while he shivered, tryin' ta keep himself warm. The only thing my nine year old brain coulda thought ta do was talk ta the poor kid.
"Ya got a name, kid?" I saw his little head workin' so hard ta understand. He looked up at me and he was so confused. I felt terrible fer him. But I just kept on talkin'. "I'm Jack. Jack Kelly."
The kid made a noise, like he was makin' sure his voice still worked. "J-Jack?" He was askin' me what I meant. I knew it.
"Me name. Jack." I sounded it out fer him, hopin' he'd understand. And he repeated it.
"J... Ja-ck." I smiled at him and kept walkin'.
"That's right, kid." That was the first time I saw him smile. And he kept on tryin' ta talk ta me.
He pointed to himself. "N-name, Tony." I laughed.
"Tony. Tony Higgins," I repeated, rememberin' what that otha' guy... Johnny, had called the kid. "It's nice ta meet ya, pal."
"Dove stiamo andan... mmh... wh-where?" The kid made me feel terrible fer ignorin' him fer all these months he'd been around. He could barely even communicate. I have no idea how he got around tellin' all these stories in English. They must've been rehearsed.
"I'm takin' ya to a friend's place tanight. Tomorrow, I's can take ta home and you can meet the rest a' my boys." He nodded. He must've understood some of it.
I shoved the door open to the Brooklyn boys' Lodgin' House. They wasn't that big. I wasn't scared of them. I found Spot as quick as I's could. I didn't care that everyone was starin' at us. I just made it ta Spot.
"The hell is this, Kelly?" Spot demanded. He was playin' cards. Winnin', probably. But I just rolled my eyes. And jerked my head in the direction of the bunk rooms.
When we made it there, I tried ta set the boy down, but he held my shirt in a death grip. "No! Please!" I was shocked when he started beggin' in English for me not ta let him go. So I didn't. He was scared a' this Spot fer some reason. It couldn't be because a' that damn story. But I just held him close and started talkin'.
"I found him. One a' the gangs had him. He's beat bad, Spot. And Sparks ain't gonna let us in at this time a' night."
Spot crossed his arms. "Are ya askin' me ta let ya stay here?" It was a long shot. I knew it. The Brooklyn boys didn't like it when a 'Hatten boy was on their turf. But the kid needed some place ta stay. Plus, I just told a hell of a' story. He owed me.
"Not me. Him." I didn't care if he let me stay inside. But this little boy needed ta get warma'. He was still freezin'.
Spot looked down at him. His eyes widened when he saw the bruises all ova' him. I ain't eva' seen Conlon like that. "The gangs had him?" I nodded. Spot knew somethin'. He had to. So I waited fer him ta tell me. "We have a boy here who says he's gotta brotha who was taken by a gang. Said they's use 'em ta get more money. Make 'em go out tellin' sob stories and gettin' cash howeva' they could. If they don't get 'nough cash, they's don't eat." Brooklyn sighed and scratched his head. "They's get soaked real bad too."
That musta been why the kid was so small. And so hurt. And maybe why I ain't seen him in a while. But how much was enough? How much was the kid supposed ta be makin'?
"What's his name?" I was confused at the question fer a minute. I was too busy starin' down at the kid who was fallin' asleep in my arms.
"Says it's Tony. Tony Higgins."
Spot made a face. He didn't like it. "Kid needs a new name. He needs a newsie name. Tony don't suit him."
I's was thinkin' the same thing. Not that I'd eva' tell Spot that. But he kept on askin' questions. "What's he like?"
I shook my head and shrugged. "Don't know... he don't speak English too good."
Spot looked back down at the kid. He didn't seem ta respond at all. He musta been too tired. He was lookin' straight at my chest. His eyes were barely stay in' open. But Spot nodded ova' to a bunk. "Set him down fer a minute." I just did what he said. There was no point in arguin'.
The kid still held my shirt real tight. I set him down and still held him in my lap. He didn't want me ta let go. It was like if he let go he'd wake up from a dream. But it was okay. I understood.
"Do ya want a shirt, kid?" I was shocked when Spot even asked. I assumed he wouldn't care. But fer some reason, he actually wanted ta help the kid.
The boy looked up at him with a confused look on his little face. "Sh... shir...?"
How? How could the kid a' made it this far tellin' stories? He didn't know the simplest things.
Spot took the kid's hand and the kid gasped in surprise, but he let Brooklyn hold his wrist and guide his hand ta his own chest. "Sh-ir-t." He sounded out the word and let Tony ball up his hand in his own shirt. I ain't neva' seen nothin' like it. Spot neva' let anyone close ta him. He liked ta keep ta hisself. Didn't like it when people saw him care bout somethin'.
Tony made a hummin' noise and then looked up at Spot again. "Sh... shir-t..." That mighta been the first time I's had eva' seen Spot Conlon smile.
"Not bad, kid." He ruffled Tony's hair. The kid laughed and it may have been the lightest, happiest thing I's have eva' heard. "I'll go get'cha one."
The kid looked down at his chest. It's like he didn't even notice that he was freezin' cold without a shirt on. That was when he actually saw the bruises on his chest. The cuts on his stomach. The hand prints on his arms. The cigarette burns on his shoulders. The poor kid lost his smile.
I missed it already. He was too innocent fer this. The kid's laugh made Spot Conlon smile! I wanted it back. But then I saw the kid take his tiny hand and put it ova' a bruise that looked too much like a hand on his shoudla'. He winced when he touched it but he didn't move his hand. "Ero cattivo... b-bad..." He musta been tryin' ta explain it ta me. The bruise was too big fer the boy. His little hand only reached over half of it. "Non abbastanza... n-not... e... e..." He was tryin' ta rememba the word. Poor kid was thinkin' so hard. "Enough." Enough. Not enough.
I knew I only known him fer an hour. I knew he was just a lost kid I knew nothin' about but suddenly he was apart a' me. Not enough. Not enough my ass. This kid was everythin' and I was gonna teach him that.
Spot came back with a shirt. An old one a' his. I ain't neva' known Brooklyn ta care so much. Eva'. But he helped Tony sit up. He helped slip him inta the long sleeve shirt. And then somethin' else happened.
"This was my first one..." Spot pulled a cap outta his pocket. "I figure ya need it more than I do."
Tony didn't understand a word. But he let Spot snug the cap ova' his curly hair and smiled 'fore he leaned back inta me.
"You's a newsie now, kid." Oh what was happenin'? Who was this kid in front a' me? It couldn't a' been Spot. "Ya need ta look like one."
"Newsie?" I smiled down at him and knocked the cap ova' his eyes like I did ta all my boys.
"That's right, pal." When he giggled it was like the world was brighta'. He took the cap off a' his head and looked down at it and his smile was so big. Then he hummed again and I's knew he had more ta say.
"Proprio come... Crutch... Crutchie? Specs?... mmh... Al... Albert?" I looked ova' at Spot. He was just as shocked as me. This kid... he knew my boys.
"Those... those are my friends... ya know 'em?" The kid shook his head.
"Uhm... sees 'em. Them... them h-happy. A volte... them try ta... talk ta me..." I was shocked. None of my boys had eva' told me they's talked ta him. Why would they do that? But Tony started ta lose his smile again and I looked ova' ta Spot again and Brooklyn shook his head and shrugged. "I... not allowed... La gente avrebbe trovato Johnny... couldn't do it..."
Some of his words rolled off his tongue and some other ones would be so hard for him to rememba' and I just wanted ta be able ta understand him. Or him ta understand me. I was gonna help him undastand. But this poor kid... it took all of his little head ta figure out how to talk ta us.
"Well you ain't there anymore." Spot smiled and ruffled the kid's hair again, but this time he noticed the blood that was there. His hand was red. But he didn't care. "Do ya undastand? You ain't gettin' taken back there. You's a newsie now."
Tony gave Spot a look. But he nodded. "... P... Per... Pertect?" Protect.
"Yeah kid... no ones gonna hurt ya no more." I saw the kid nod. His head was gettin' heavier. He musta been real tired. And me and Spot sat there till he was asleep. Then I looked up at Spot.
"Alright Spottie, why are ya actin' like ya care so much?" Spot rolled his eyes and stood up.
"What's it ta you, Kelly?" There was the Spot Conlon I knew. Closed off and not sorry 'bout it. I slipped out from unda' the new kid and made sure he wasn't gonna wake up 'fore I walked up ta Spot. He glared at me.
"Ya tell me er I'll tell the everyone why ya really got your name." It was an empty threat. He knew I didn't mean it, but I was one a' the only ones who knew he got his name cause he followed Nick 'round like a puppy when he first got ta the Brooklyn Lodgin' House. The leader thought it was hilarious.
If looks could kill... "You tell anyone and I'll soak ya good!" I laughed and crossed my arms. But he sighed and leaned back 'gainst the wall. "It was my brotha'," he said. "He's gone now 'cause a' the damn gangs."
I had no idea. He neva' told me that. We might not a' been the best a' friends, but I thought I knew him. I was wrong.
"Spot I-"
"I don't need your pity, Kelly. Just don't let 'em get him back." Neva'. I would neva' let them gangs get him back. This kid was too innocent. And me and Spot made the first deal we eva' made. It was the first deal in a long line a' deals. "I'll let ya stay here tanight if ya let me look out fer him too."
And all I could say was yes. And that kid slept on my lap that night. The next day I took him back ta 'Hattan. I had ta carry him on my back. Kid was too weak ta walk anywhere. But he gave it his best shot fer a few blocks 'fore his legs stopped workin'.
We had ta pass the tracks when we walked back. It was gonna get us there faster. I's was helpin' him point at things and say 'em in English. He was smilin' and wearin' that old newsie cap that Spot gave him. I don't think I has eva' seen a happier kid. And when he saw those horses, jeez, he was so happy. "Cavalli!" I saw what the kid was pointin' at. A horse. It was a fast one. So's I let him sit and watch it. It won. He was smilin' so much. And I knew what ta call him.
"Tony... ya want a newsie name?" The kid nodded his head. I just laughed.
"I's'll call ya Racetrack. Race fer short." He scrunched up his eyebrows and tilted his head. He didn't know what it meant. So's I pointed ta the tracks. "Racetrack."
The boy looked ova' at all the horses. "R... Racer... Race... track?"
"That's right. Its you's new name. A newsie name. Racetrack Higgins." I named a lot a' the boys. But givin' Race his nick mighta been the best one I's eva' did.
"Race..." It sounded perfect. He liked it too. I's could tell. And I didn't expect him ta jump up and wrap his tiny arms around me. The kid was somethin' else.
I got him home, eventually. This time, he was up on my back. His chin was on my shoulda'. He didn't know what ta do when every boy turned and stared at us. It had been a whole day since I's had been home. Crutchie ran up ta me and gave me a hug. And Sparks was not happy.
"Jack Kelly, where the hell have ya been?!" But he stopped stompin' up ta me when he saw Race. He musta' seen the bruises on the kid's neck and his face. The blood in his hair. The way his eyes could barely stay open. "Who's this?"
I smiled. I could feel the kid holdin' onta me tighta'. He didn't like all the eyes on him. He didn't like that everyone was askin' questions. But I knew everyone would love him. They had to. "It's Racetrack. He's our newest newsie now!" I was so proud a' myself fer gettin' Race there. Kid mighta been dead otha' wise. And I can't bare the thought.
"Hey! That's the kid who steals all ours customers." Oh, Al. Race was already shakin'. But the other boy walked up ta us. I could hear Race whimper. "What's wrong with him?" I just rolled my eyes.
"He's scared. Don't speak English real good."
"Is he okay?" Crutchie. The kid was so innocent. It made me melt inside.
"He is now." He is now. He was okay. "Gangs had him. He was their pet." It was the only word I's could think of ta describe it. Kept in a cage. Used when they's needed him. Beaten if he did somethin' wrong.
Sparks smiled at the kid. I put him down so's he could lean on me. Poor kid was still so tired. But I put my arms around him and he leaned inta my chest. Sparks got on his knees in fronta us. "Well Racer, welcome ta 'Hattan." Sparks spit in his hand and held it out fer the kid ta shake. But Race backed up inta me when Sparks put a hand in fronta him. "It's okay, pal. I ain't gonna hurt ya." Race didn't move. He just stared down at the hand. And then I looked up at Sparks. He was thinkin' real hard. "It's okay, kid... é sicuro."
I didn't know what it meant. But Racer sure did. His eyes widened in surprise when Sparks started speakin' his language. His grip on my shirt loosened a little. "Sicuro?"
Sparks nodded. "Yeah kid, safe. It's safe."
Race looked at the hand again. Everyone was starin' at him, waitin' fer him ta do somethin'. But he didn't seem ta notice this time. He stood on his own fer the first time. And Sparks still was squattin' down in fronta him. So Race spit in his hand and shook the one that was in front of him.
That was Racer's first day as our brotha'. The next day was the day he beat Al at poka'. A few days afta' that, the Delanceys went afta' him and they had their first banter. And then Spot came ta visit him.
The story I spun had gotten outta hand. Everyone thought the great Spot Conlon was a kid who could throw a knife at any target. A little lata' people thought he was the strongest kid in the world and he could make people sorry fer crossin' him with his bare hands. But I knew the truth.
But none a' that mattered. All that mattered was another smile on a kid's face. He was alive and he had a life ta live. And everythin' would be okay.
So that night when he laid down on my lap ta go ta sleep, I whispered ta him. "Goodnight, Racer. You're safe now. And I won't eva' hurt ya."
Neva'.
Translations: (just in case you wanna know what Race was trying ta say.) (Also, sorry to everyone who speaks Italian... I used google translate :))
Uscire da qui ora, o ti prenderanno anche voi!- Get out of here now, or they'll take you too!
Per favore! Per favore! Non farlo! Non di nuovo!- Please! Please! Do not do it! Not again!
Dove stiamo andan- Where are we going?
Ero cattivo- I was bad.
Non abbastanza- Not enough.
Proprio come- Just like
A volte- Sometimes
La gente avrebbe trovato Johnny- People would find Johnny
Cavalli- Horse!
é sicuro- It's safe
This was way too much fun to write. But hey, I don't know if I'll mark this one as complete. Maybe I'll show it from Race's perspective. Or Spot's. If you guys want to see more from this universe, let me know! More of Spot and Jack's story or any requests you might have will surely be heard! I would love some more ideas! I'll work hard on all of them! Thank you!
As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya babes! ;)