(Author's Note: This is just something I've been working on lately, because I felt like Jack would have really felt a connection with Robin Hood, and I sorta went with it. It's also an apology for being so late on my updates recently. Sorry. I can't tell you when things will get better, but I hope this makes up for it.
Standard disclaimers apply. I own nothing but my own imagination.)
Jack is 5 years old. His mother is telling him a story about a man who is brave and daring called Robin Hood, who steals from the rich to give to the poor. Jack likes the sound of his mother's voice when she tells him stories. She has a different voice for every character, so Robin and Maid Marian and Little John all sound different. Jack loves his mother. She is almost to the end of the story when she is consumed by a heavy coughing fit and has to stop. She keeps telling him that she is sorry, but Jack doesn't mind. He knows his mother is tired and will finish the story for him tomorrow. Besides, he's already heard it at least a dozen times. It's his favorite story. He knows it by heart, but he likes to hear his mother tell it to him anyway.
Jack is 6 years old. His mother gives him an old book with the title "Robin Hood and Little John" on the cover. It's his birthday gift, and she has saved up nearly the whole year, and taken many extra shifts at the factory to buy it for him. She says that one day she will teach him to read it. For now, Jack is content to let her read it to him, one chapter at a time, as this book has a lot more to it than the meager story she used to tell him. He has to hold the book and turn the pages for her because she is not strong enough to do it herself anymore. He loves to hear her read to him.
Jack is 7 years old. He is at his mother's funeral. He hugs his Robin Hood book close to his chest and cries. There is no one to read it to him now. He vows to learn to read it himself, so that his mother will be proud of him. Later that year, his father dies too. He is alone. Jack moves into the newsboys lodging house and starts working there. He keeps "Robin Hood and Little John" tucked under his bed, and every night he tries to read it. Some of the words are too long or too difficult for him at first, but with time and practice, and a little guidance from one of the older boys who used to go to school, he is learning. He can still hear his mother's voice as he sounds out the words slowly. He wishes she could still read to him. He wishes she was still there with him.
Jack is 8 years old. He has read "Robin Hood and Little John" a total of four times on his own. He decides that he is going to be just like Robin. What better person is there to be? Jack knows that many of his friends are freezing and starving, so one day he takes a small piece of bread from a bakery that he didn't pay for. He gives it to the youngest of the boys at the lodging house, the one who can barely keep up and hardly ever has money to buy himself food. The look on that little boy's face is enough to erase any trace of guilt Jack might have otherwise felt. He doesn't ever do this for himself, but if he has to steal to save his brothers, then that is what he's going to do. Jack steals from the rich to give to the poor.
Jack is 9 years old. He is in the refuge. They caught him stealing a blanket for a new boy. The boy has a bad leg and walks only with the assistance of a crutch, and Jack tried to help him so that he wouldn't be so cold at night. The boy had mentioned something about his leg getting bed when the weather turned cold. Jack wasn't quite quick enough this time, and he is now in the refuge, where it is cold and dark and damp. He is beaten when he gets out of hand or whenever the guards are in a bad mood. He wonders if Robin Hood ever got caught. He doesn't think so. He can't remember, and his book is still under his bed at the lodging house. He wishes he could go back there. Jack tries very hard to keep from crying, but a few tears fight their way through out of his eyes anyway. He just wants to go home.
Jack is 10 years old. He has just been let out of the refuge, beaten and broken and hungry and tired. He wonders if they know it's his birthday, or if that was just a coincidence. He thinks it's his birthday anyhow. He sort of lost track of the days in there. Either way, he is happy to be out. He goes back to the lodging house, and even though it is the middle of the day, he crumples onto his bed. He barely has time to appreciate the fact that they haven't given his bed away to someone else before he is asleep. When he wakes up, it's dark, and he is very cold. He guesses that he got sick in the refuge, because his stomach is churning and his whole body aches. The boy with the bad leg, Crutchie, is sitting by Jack's bedside.
"Jackie?" He whispers, careful not to wake anyone else up, "How ya feeling?"
"I'm c-cold," Jack stammers through his teeth. He squeezes his eyes shut for a minute, and soon he can feel another blanket being draped over him, the same blanket that sent him to the refuge in the first place. He curls in on himself, glad to be a little warmer, and forces his way through a sentence or two, taking big pauses between words to catch his breath.
"C-Crutchie? There's a book under the bed. Will you read to me?" He knows Crutchie can read. He's seen him do it a couple of times before, and sure enough, he mumbles a yes and begins fishing under the bed until he pulls out Robin Hood. Crutchie begins to read and it's just like Jack remembers it. He likes listening to Crutchie read. Jack hasn't had anyone read to him in a very long time, not since his mother died, and it distracts him from the painful chill that is sinking deeper and deeper into his bones. He is sure this is not the end of his Robin Hood escapades. In fact, after seeing the way the kids in the refuge were treated, he is more ready than ever to steal from the rich to give to the poor. Not now though. Now he is safe and warm-well, warmer-and before Crutchie can get past chapter one of "Robin Hood and Little John," Jack is fast asleep.
(Thanks for reading and reviewing! You guys are the best!
Much love,
PrettyLittleMonster Xxx)