Chapter Four

We Goes Where We Wishes

A/N: Fun fact - I had to edit and re-post the last chapter SIX TIMES because there were continuity (and basic maths) errors everywhere. Embarrassed I am. And now speak Yoda I do. Oh, and thanks to Nicely Nicely's Little Sister ;D

At some unspecified point during the night, a number of peculiar things happened. Or at least, that was the conclusion Skates came to when she woke up with a head rush and found herself hanging off the side of Swifty's bunk.

She blinked her eyes open in the half-darkness and couldn't immediately recall where or who she was. Upside-down, she made out a figure lighting candles around the room: Kloppman.

'C'mon now,' he announced to the rows of bunks. 'I know it's dark, but youse gotta get yerselves up. It's a brand new day.'

Crutchy and Dutchy, on the bottom bunks either side of Skates, groaned and, rolling over to face her, threw off their duvets in fright.

'Gah!'

Their shock triggered Skates' own startled jump, which caused her to slip and fall off the bunk. The loud thud made for an excellent morning alarm.

'Wha…Skates?' mumbled Ace, leaning over to glance at the floor, barely conscious. 'You okay?'

'Everything hurts,' came the disgruntled reply.

'Here,' said Crutchy, sitting up and offering the handle of his crutch.

'Thanks,' said Skates as she stumbled to her feet, rubbing the back of her head and arms.

'Wow.'

'What, what's wrong?' she said, frowning at Crutchy's stare.

'Nothin', I just never seen ya wit' your hair down, that's all.'

'Oh.' She gathered her curly, dirty blonde hair at the side of her neck before getting her clothes together.

Ace longed to turn back the clock so she could sleep all over again, although when she laid her head back down on the mattress…well, that was precisely what knocked away any remaining comfort. She sat up to find Jack on his side, facing away from her, resting his head on the only pillow, which he'd flipped into a vertical position.

'Cowboy, hey Cowboy!' pestered Kloppman, nudging the comatose Manhattan leader. 'Get up an' at 'em, the headlines are waitin'!'

'You're mad, Klopp...mad as rats...'

Ace rolled her eyes and took over from rousing him. Kloppman moved swiftly on, tugging blankets off other bunks altogether, which worked very well indeed.

'Ah! So cold!' squeaked Vi, tucking her bare legs as far under the hem of her nightgown as they would go.

'I need coffee,' slurred Skittery, sitting up beside her.

A few top bunks over, Mush was awake, but indulged in leaving his eyes closed a little longer as he and Madison spooned.

'Don't let go,' she said.

'Mm,' sighed Mush. 'Believe me, I don't wanna.'

'No I mean seriously,' she said, on edge. 'Don't let go - you're the only thing keepin' me from the floor.'

He opened his eyes in confusion and realized what she meant - somehow they'd both ended up with half the bunk empty, with Madison lying precariously on the edge of the mattress. She held on tight to his arms.

'Oh, sorry peach,' he said, shuffling back over. She sat up and stretched, relieved.

'S'okay. But man…so early…so tired…'

'Tumbler, little Tumbler!' barked Kloppman, standing over a lumpy lower bunk. To his surprise, two pale faces emerged, startled, from under the duvet.

'Huh? Oh,' said Frames, pointing in the vague direction of 'over there'. 'He's wit' Boots.'

'Urgh,' said Rich, flopping back down onto the pillow. 'If the sun ain't up, neither should we.'

'Aw, c'mon Rich,' yawned Frames, rooting around under the bed for her glasses. 'At least our bones ain't gonna turn into icicles if we get up.'

She knelt on the floor to quickly say the Lord's Prayer, but had to put up with the distracting sound of Blink's yelp:

'My other eye's gone blind!'

'No hun…' said Darlin' blearily. 'My hair's just in your face.'

'Oh, phew.' She passed him his eye patch while he brushed away her ice-blonde locks.

Below, Racetrack, a heavy sleeper, was only just coming out of his timeless, placeless, eight-hour hibernation. He heard Kloppman's upbeat morning calls and felt tempted to pull the covers tight over his head. Sighing, he curled up and rolled to the left, hugging his warm pillow.

Except…he didn't remember his pillow ever breathing.

'What are you doin'?'

Race snapped his eyes open to see Streets' lime-flecked green ones mere inches away. They both looked down at his arms, locked around her waist.

'Uh…I…' spluttered Race, his entire vocabulary having fallen out of his head.

'Get off!' said Streets, pushing her foot into his legs, slightly harder than she'd intended: he promptly fell off the mattress. 'Oops.'

Two hands slammed onto the edge of the bunk as Race got himself off the floor. Streets hastily got up to avoid his lethal stare.

'Oh yeah,' he said loudly, grabbing his pants and suspenders. 'Just kick me outta my own bed, why don't ya! The noive…'

'Pipe down, Mr. Too-Close-For-Comfort.'

The boys cackled at her rejoinder as they slowly pulled themselves together. Ace, Skates and Vi nabbed the three washroom stalls first, and were fully dressed in just under two minutes.

'Wow,' said Jack at the sudden transformation. Ace did up the last button on her shirt.

'We've got real good at this, trust me.'

'Boots,' said Rich, trying to splash cold water on her face. 'What are ya doin'?'

'Pumping,' he replied.

'Yeah, I can see that, but why -'

'Don't bother, Rich,' said Crutchy. 'His elbows got minds a' their own.'

'So d'ya feel better this morning?' asked Jack. The girls nodded.

'I've already stopped soundin' like a chain-smoker,' said Streets, brushing her straight black hair.

'Yeah, and…' Vi trailed off when one of the stall doors opened and closed. She choked on the air. 'Yep, my sense a' smell's definitely back.'

'Jeez louise,' said Skates, holding her nose.

'Hang on,' said Madison, weaving her way back to the bunkroom. 'I'll remedy this.'

Seconds later, she marched around the washroom armed with a purple bottle, spritzing every square inch of air. Anyone who got caught in the line of fire coughed and rubbed their eyes.

'What in heaven's name is that stuff?' spluttered Itey.

'Extract of Violet,' replied Madison. The girls nodded in approval at this distinct change of musk.

'Prefer the stopper bottles myself,' said Vi. 'But to each his own.'

Skittery, at the sink next to her, watched with fascination at the ritual she and Madison shared across the counter: a dab on the wrists, the neck, and behind the ears.

'Hey Streets,' said Ace. 'Pass a towel?'

'Sure,' she replied, picking one up from the corner of a sink and tossing it over the counter. As soon as she did, she shrieked.

'Spider!'

Because her instinct wasn't exactly choosy, Streets leapt off the floor and into the unsuspecting arms of the nearest body. Needless to say, Race was taken aback:

'What am I, a hat stand?!'

Skates shook her head and, patiently, bobbed over to the aforementioned spider. She scooped it into her cupped palms.

'It's alright, Streets, I got this.' She went to the window.

'You really need to relax about this irrational fear, y'know,' said Ace, tying her hair.

'Says the one who almost faints every time she looks down from a tall buildin'.'

Ace knew to shut up. Skates came back, brushing her palms free.

'Dealt with.'

'Thanks,' said Streets, apparently oblivious to the fact that her arms were still around Race's neck. He looked around the room, exasperated.

'In yer own time, by all means.'

'…Oh, right,' said Streets, coming out of her relief. She hastily set herself down and scuttled to fetch her cap.

'I swear,' said Race, massaging his temples. 'Those straws last night were rigged just to give me mornings like this. I mean really…'

Everyone averted his gaze and stifled their laughter.

By four o' clock, Skates was sold out of papers and absolutely ecstatic about it. The Manhattan newsies had noticed that morning that she'd slung a bag over her shoulder, but didn't ask what was inside.

Now, having told Rich she'd meet her later back at Duane Street, Skates stood in the south part of Central Park, at the edge of the lake. Overnight it had transformed from a busy, rippling surface of water to a sheet of smooth, frosted ice. Ducks sheltered at the foot of trees and under bridges, but in the meantime, the lake was all Skates's.

There were track marks from other visitors earlier in the day, but at this time, when all the children were in their last hour of school and women of the house were starting to prepare supper, the lake was empty.

She knelt down in the frozen grass and took out her most treasured skating boots, handmade by her mother and father when she was seven, with the size adjusted each year as her feet grew. It would be the first time she went skating without them watching.

Skates winced as she forced her feet into the boots. She'd tried her best to squeeze and soften the leather, but the hard material still bit her stiffly on the toes. After a minute of solid persistence, however, she was able to tie the laces in firm knots, and wobble her way up from the ground to a standing position.

She may have been skating every winter since she was five, but Skates still felt the tremor of fear, the charge of giddiness, every time she took that first step onto the ice, testing its thickness.

Arms out for balance, she let herself drift, feet parallel and away from the grass. She gradually pushed down, left, right, left right, in a V-shape until she picked up some speed. From then on, as always, it felt natural.

Stray snowflakes fluttered down from the sky and kissed her face. The air whistled a breezy melody as she gained momentum, circling the perimeter of the lake. She steadied herself and dared to move towards the center, where the ice was at its thickest. Skates put one foot in front of the other, focused straight ahead, and raised her back leg until it arabesqued off the surface. Soon she was at a ninety-degree angle, one arm in front and one to the side, gliding. This was even better than Christmas.

Crutchy hobbled past snow-topped trees, taking extra care not to slip on a patch of ice and fall, although the main path had been salted down well enough. He'd intended to be back at the lodging house by half past four, not expecting any distractions along the way. Until he reached the south lake.

At first he simply watched a figure he thought was a stranger, until he noticed Skates's bag sitting on the side. Crutchy stared at the swooping, turning person anew, and moved closer onto the frosty grass.

He'd seen couples and families ice skate as a fun leisure activity before, but Skates was on her own, and very much embracing it. He'd never seen anything like this, it was so…free. She made gravity work to her liking, staying balanced on one foot even when she was speeding along, horizontal, practically flying. Skates seamlessly placed her other foot back on the ice, before lifting her knee to her chest and, turning on the lake's circle, extending her whole leg up to her head. She held onto the gap where blade met shoe, and let herself ride the rest of the way on a precarious angle, leaning back into the air.

Crutchy didn't dare call her name, for fear of startling her into a tumble, but when she set her leg back down and slowed up, he waved eagerly.

'Skates! Hey Skates!'

She turned her head like a squirrel that has just realized it isn't alone. When she caught sight of the newsboy, she changed track and turned, sliding her feet past each other as the ice delivered her to the edge.

'Crutchy, what a surprise,' she smiled, cheeks red and breathless.

'I was just on my way back home, but then I saw ya, and…well, wow.'

'Ha, thanks,' she beamed.

'Guess now I know why dey call ya Skates. You're real good.'

'Thank you. It's just so much fun. Every year, soon as the nearest body a' water's frozen over, I am on it.'

She was on the verge of inviting him to try it, but her eyes reminded her that was, if not impossible, then at least spectacularly out of the question.

'I'd sure love to join ya,' said Crutchy, reading her mind. 'But…well. It don't matter - watchin' ya's somethin' magical.'

'Aw, you're too sweet,' she said. 'Wanna sit wit' me while I get my boots off?'

'Sure,' he replied, easing himself down on his crutch. 'That all ya wanna do today?'

'Yeah, I was about to head back anyway,' she said, unlacing the knots. Her pants would be freezing cold by the time they got back, from sitting in the snow. But that was a small price to pay for the experience.

'So how was sellin'?'

'Better than I expected,' said Crutchy, rubbing his gloved hands together. 'People were even more generous around me than usual.'

'Must be the season,' said Skates, leaning right back to tug her boots off.

'You bet,' said Crutchy, gazing at the whiteness all around them. 'Snow just makes everythin' more special somehow. Sometimes I pretend the world is God's cake, and snow is the icing sugar He sifts over it.'

Skates started putting on her other shoes, shaking her head with a grin.

'You are somethin' else Crutchy, ya know that?'

'I aim to please,' he said, shrugging. When Skates had brushed the shredded ice from her blades, she wrapped them up carefully in an old towel and put them back in her bag. She stood, buttoned her coat, and offered a hand to Crutchy.

'Thanks Skates.'

They wandered back along the path in the direction of Duane Street. Excited schoolchildren pelted each other with snowballs on their routes home; a painter stood concentrating on his easel and canvas, trying to capture Central Park in the winter sunset; street vendors ambled past with their carts of wares, energy expended for the day.

'Boy am I lookin' forward to more of that stew,' said Skates.

'Same here,' nodded Crutchy, noticing that she walked deliberately slowly to let him keep up. 'So how's sharin' a bunk goin', if ya don't mind my askin', that is?'

'No, it's fine,' she said, delving for warmth in her coat pockets. 'Swifty's okay, I s'pose, although you saw the way I ended up this mornin'. Guess we both toss an' turn in strange ways.'

'Yeah,' chuckled Crutchy. 'Me, I stay straight as the bedposts. Like I said before, I'd have offered to share, but this leg a' mine don't take kindly to stayin' bent fer too long.'

'Hey, don't worry about it,' said Skates. 'I completely, one hundred percent understand. Wouldn't dream of askin' if it was gonna hurt ya.'

'I just thought you should know I really would, offer,' he said, catching her eye and smiling shyly. Skates said nothing, but smiled too.

'Say, are you and the goils goin' to Medda's on Saturday?'

'Medda's?'

'Yeah…oh, I guess you ain't never really been. Medda's a vaudeville performer, an' she runs the theater over at Irving Hall. We newsies are real welcome there.'

'Irving Hall…yeah, I know it.'

'That's where the fellas held their big rally durin' the strike, y'know, before everythin' got kinda messy. Medda still lets us take in shows wit' all the other 'Hattan newsies though, at real cheap prices.'

'An' you're all goin' on Saturday?'

'Yeah. Should be grand,' said Crutchy, grinning. 'An', well, it'd be even more fun if ya came along.'

'Sure,' said Skates as they exited the park. 'I'd really like that.'

'Swell,' beamed Crutchy. The more Skates looked his way, the more she found herself grinning right along with him.

A/N: Like ice-skating? Like snow? Like happiness? Then review and tell me all about it! :D