This chapter is some-what short, but it is necessary that I wrote it this way so that I keep some suspense going for you. ::smiles:: Hope you like it. Please read and review.
Chapter 3: Cards
Once they got back to the lodging house from Medda's it was over an hour before the rest of the newsies returned from selling and dining at Tibby's. Race drug up a card game that Jack and Pieboy joined in. Anne, having nothing else to do, paced around the table checking out the various hands of the game. She came to Snipeshooter for a second time and he still had nothing as usual. She plastered a smirk from ear to ear and coaxed a fake surprised expression. "Pretty good, pretty good."
Pieboy's eyes narrowed towards her. "You're bluffin'."
Anne shrugged, still smiling.
Race glowered, closely analyzing every smidgen of her face. "She don't even know how ta play."
She raised an eyebrow. "Uh, you don't know that."
Racetrack continued staring at her and decided to carry on, but then as the stakes grew higher he began doubting himself. He and Pieboy folded. "Lay down your cards, Snipes!" Race demanded, emitting a large puff of smoke from his cigar. Snipeshooter smirked, but obediently did as he was told. "I folded for that?" Race yelled. "I lost fifty cents!"
"Tough luck!" Snipeshooter chuckled as he drew in the stack of winnings from the table.
In the meantime, Anne had craftily snuck away from the table to withdraw herself from the attention. Race had come to realization of Anne and was ravaging throughout the room in search of her. He eventually found her under a far bunk bed and drug her out by her ankles. She squirmed in a fit of giggles as he dangled her upside down. All of the some-what angry boys rushed over to help with whatever Racetrack needed. Snipes looked on too, hoping anxiously that there might be a fight.
"Come on guys. It was just a little fun," she laughed, her face turning slightly pink from all of the blood rushing to it. She turned to give Pie a stern look. "A little help here?"
"Don't do anything too serious ta her. I mean, she didn't make yall fold," he explained.
"Thanks, Pie. What would I eva do wid out ya?" she muttered sarcastically.
"I know, doll! Hey, I see you've been workin' on ya New Yawk accent. 'Sounds good!" He laughed at her smug rolling of eyes.
All of a sudden the door to the bunkroom flew open and in strutted a strong-standing young man with light-brown hair. Everyone quickly turned to look.
"Spot," Race exclaimed to the man. He dropped Anne from his grasp and rushed over to the door.
"Ow!" she yelled as she landed in a crumpled heap on the wooden floor.
"Me and two a me boys," Spot began. He indicated to the other two strong young men standing behind him in the door frame and then continued. "came to check on you Manhattan boys. I heard from da little boidies dat you got in some trouble yesterday."
"What kind of trouble are you talking about?" Jack asked.
"Oh, I don't know - somethin' involvin' a pretty goil and da Delanceys." Speaking of girls made his present smirk lengthen.
"Oh, about Anne!" Pieboy said, suddenly remembering his girlfriend who still sat across the room on the floor.
"Anne?" Spot asked, looking around the room.
Pieboy rushed over to where Anne sat and stuck out a hand to help her up.
Anne got up from the floor, not taking his offered hand. She scowled bitterly. "So, did you just all of a sudden forget me? Gentlemen don't do that to their girls," she said in just below a whisper, so that only he could hear. Pie just shrugged and pulled her over to where everyone stood.
Racetrack directed a displeasing glare towards Anne, but she ignored him. Anne spit in her palm and extended it out to shake with Spot. He laughed a gladly took the offer by shaking her hand.
"Spot, dis is Anne. She's my goil," Pie said proudly. Anne's eyes narrowed towards her beau, but she bore a smile to the Brooklynite.
"Well, well, well, so, you finally got yourself a goil - a nice one at dat," Spot smiled charmingly.
"Back off Spot," Pie growled.
Jack nodded to Spot. "Anne, dis is Spot Conlon, da toughest and most famous newsy in New Yawk. He's da leader of Brooklyn."
Spot's chin lifted proudly. Anne didn't feel all that impressed, but she kept her thoughts to herself.
That evening Spot and the two others from Brooklyn named Bua and Skinner stayed at the lodging house. They had arrived too late in the afternoon for them to return to Brooklyn before dark. The newsies played poker late into the night, but Anne, who Pieboy seemed to have forgotten about, slept on the roof. The night was warm and not a cloud appeared in the sky above. Anne rested peacefully under the stars, though she was angry with Pieboy. He had not spoken a word to her once Spot and her had been introduced to one another. Perhaps he did not want her to stay at the lodging house anymore. I suppose I should leave then. I am not welcome here, but maybe, just maybe. If I talk to him -
Anne climbed back down the fire escape to the window. Cigarette smoke clouded the room and the smell of alcohol wafted around the poker tables. She knelt down to where Pieboy sat and whispered to him, "We need to talk." Spot watched the couple from across the table. Pieboy was drunk and didn't know what he was doing.
He roughly shoved her away. "Not now."
Her eyes were hurt and she slowly turned to walk away. Jack caught her sleeve. "Anne, wait until da morning," he whispered. Her eyes began to tear and Jack felt extremely bad. "Anne, hold on. I didn't mean it like dat. It's just dat it's rare when Pieboy ever drinks. He doesn't know what he's saying. Just wait until da morning ta talk ta him. It's best -"
Anne cut him off, "NO, I know what's best." Giving a slight wave, she ran to the window where her bag sat already packed and ran down the fire escape. As Anne wandered Duane Street full of sobs, she searched for a hiding place.
Jack hoped that she wasn't doing what he thought that she was - he hoped that she wasn't leaving. Pieboy would be heartbroken. Spot looked awkwardly toward Pieboy who was as drunk as a pig and was murmuring something about "a dream river." The fearless Brooklyn leader then turned to Jack who was looking worriedly toward the opened window. All Jack could do was hope.
Pieboy sat up thoughtfully, rubbing his throbbing head. He squinted against the bright sunlight filtering through the large windows, then turned to look at the bunk beside his. Instead of seeing Anne as he had expected there was nothing more than a few folded sheets and a pillow. "Jack?" he whispered. His voice steadied and grew louder. "Jack!"
"What?" Jack replied, coming over to stand by Pie's bunk.
"Where's Anne?" Pie asked.
"Uh... she left, Pie."
"What do you mean left?"
"I mean.. she's gone. She packed up her things and disappeared."
"When?" Pie asked, his headache worsening.
"Last night durin da poker game."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Pie yelled.
The other newsies had begun to stir and many staired between Jack and Pie. Jack didn't answer.
"I could have stopped her." Pieboy continued yelling and Jack grabbed him by the arm. He shook him lightly, hoping to calm him a bit. "Pie, you were drunk. You couldn't have done anything," Jack coaxed.
Pie sat back down on his bunk. Spot had been awoken by all of the yelling and was apparently pissed off. "What is all a dis damn racket?"
"Anne's gone!" Pie exclaimed as if it was not already known after a third time.
"God..." Spot yawned, placing his head in his hands.
"She'll be back. How 'bout some more poker?" Skittery suggested.
"Damn it, Skit. Shut up!" Spot growled.
"Yeah, come on, everyone. We gotta go sell some papes," Jack yelled over the chatter of the room. "Hey, but while you're out selling today I want all a ya on da eye out for Anne. We need ta find her again."
"Just hope dat da Delanceys don't find her first," Spot whispered to Pieboy.
"So much for poker," Skittery muttered before receiving a smack to the back of the head from Spot. Even though it didn't appear so, Spot was generally concerned for the girl's sake. He looked along with everyone else that day for Anne.
