Chapter Three

Injuries

Author's Note: So here's chapter three, and so I would like to thank the one and only reviewer but to I am thankful, theater104. Thank you so much and I know I was begging but I'll try to stop now, and thank you I am glad you enjoy it and I'm glad you thought it was a good start to a story! I'll get on with it now. Here we go…

We followed Checkers in quickly through the hallway into the bedroom. On a bed there was a boy who I didn't recognize and others were grouped around the bed. We approached the bed following Checkers to the bed. I looked the boy over, and noticed that he was bleeding from his head and a long gash was down his side. He had blond hair and wasn't very tall.

"Who's dat?" I asked Patch.

"No idea." was his simple, quick reply. I nodded, breathing slowly.

The boy was older, he looked about 13 at least. I didn't know what to make of him, I'd never seen this boy before, but he was dressed almost like a newsie, yet not really, an orphan more likely. Checkers went up and touched the boy's forehead. I looked from Patch to the bed again and again, wondering what was going on here. Then my leg gave a throb and I nearly fell over, staying upright only by force.

"Ya found 'im where?" asked Checkers.

"Jus' in da alleyway." said another boy. "'e was jus' lyin' dere like dis. I dunno who he is or nothin'."

"Where am…" a voice came from the bed. The boy was talking, his eyes slowly opening. "Who are ya? Where is dis place?"

"Youse are in da newsies' lodgin' house in da Bronx. Who are ya?" asked Checkers, trying to appear threatening and trying to stop his curiosity from taking ahold of him.

"Me name's John, John Conlon." he said, looking up at Patch menacingly.

"Conlon, eh?" replied Checkers. "Where'd ya get knifed like dat?

"I…I dunno. It was da street gang, bu' I beat 'em up pretty quickly. Den Ise blacked out 'cause one of dem 'ad knifed me. An' den…" he left off with a small whimper of pain but denied the cloth a boy tried to hand to him.

"Alrigh', da rest of ya, go ta bed." Checkers ordered. We followed his command as I followed Patch to our bunk bed.

It was rather hard maneuvering my leg and body to lie down on the bed that night, but I managed to and stayed lying on my back the rest of the night. Patch only told me goodnight before I was sound asleep, mind and body exhausted from the days' activities.

The morning was bright and cheerful yet questions hung in the air, thoughts from every newsie, from every boy and the few girls in the building, questions about the new boy who was injured and seemed to be stuck here. Patch and I headed out through a crowd of newsies who were dressing and getting ready for the day.

We went to the distribution center and got our papes, heading to the corner where we would sell our papes again today. Patch was quite silent and though I wanted to ask him what was wrong, I didn't know if he would snap at me or actually explain why he was silent. I still got stares, and when a boy and a girl with their mother came along at one point, I was picked on.

Neither I nor Patch expected someone to open-endedly tease me and make fun of me like these people did. This explains why I was caught off guard when the boy said something.

"Is he a real cripple, mommy?" asked the boy, looking innocent but when I looked at him I saw something that was like malice in his face.

"Yes dear, but don't make any sort of contact with him, it isn't proper." the mother replied. I stared at her, and Patch stepped up.

"'xcuse me, ma'am, but it ain't ya business ta boder wid talkin' like dat?" asked Patch, looking as tough as he could. I motioned for him not to make any more comments.

"It isn't your business, boy, to talk like that now, is it?" asked the girl, who was older and looked as if she were 15 years old.

"Jus' eider buy youself a pape or don' boder." I said, almost growling with indignation. "Youse ain't able ta contain youse thoughts any bettah den youse moder can, so eidder buy youself a pape, or go."

"Well, excuse me, but aren't you a nice gimp to be talking to adults like that? And all this time I thought newsboys were misunderstood creatures, but I'm beginning to think just the opposite." the mother said, and ushered her boy onward, glancing at the girl as if to try and make her come along too. The girl stayed where she was for the moment.

"Ya gonna leave?" asked Patch.

"No. I would like to state my mind on you two. You'd better watch out or my mother and I will have and cause trouble with the both of you, and even some of your friends."

"I ain't gonna like ta say dis, bu' jus' 'cause youse older an' gotta education, dere ain't no way youse would evah survive on da streets. An' jus' stop tryin' ta teach us, 'cause we don't an' ain't gonna listen." I told her firmly, hoping that would induce her to move on. I didn't like doing this to girls but this one deserved it.

And so she left, making a significant glare at the both of us as she walked away. I didn't feel like I wanted to deal with anyone else like this and glanced at Patch who was watching the girl move away. Then I bent down and gripped my leg which had just given a painful twinge. Patch came over the minute he saw me bending down and obviously in pain.

"Wha' is it, youse leg?"

"Yeah, bu' don't pay no mind ta it. I ain't in serious pain or nothin'." I replied quickly, knowing he would be protective if he felt like it.

"Nah, we'se need ta go home 'cause oder wise, I don't know wha' could happen ta youse." was his reply. I looked at him, wondering if he was really this worried.

"Bu' I need ta make more money an'…" then I fell into a lapse of silence as my leg hurt even more.

"Ya come on." said he, pulling me along.

We went back to the lodging house to find things in an uproar. The injured boy, Conlon, was obviously feeling better because he was torturing the houseman and Checkers was there too, answering any question that came from the boy. We entered and he quickly approached us.

"Dere ain't no way I wanna deal wid dis oder boy any more. Conlon's a fighter, bu' he'd do bettah in Brooklyn than heah. Wha's da mattah?" he announced to us.

"Me leg ain't feelin' good." I replied, and he nodded, sighing, and pointing to my bed.

I went on over, lying down and I couldn't seem to find a way out of this whole staying in bed thing. It wasn't fun and I didn't like it, so I didn't see why I had to. Checkers was just really worried, and I knew why, but had I known what was coming I wouldn't have been quite as deeply worried about my own life and leg.

Author's Note: Well, that's chapter three and I hope you enjoyed it! I do admit it was a bit of a filler chapter and foreshadowed what was to come, but don't worry, you will find out soon. Thank you again and please review, review, review!