The Edge of Tomorrow

By: Laney S.

Author's Note: Not much to say. I'm super tired tonight but I want to write this chapter really bad. Total random side-note! Did you know that in real life during the newsboy's strike of 1899, their leader's name was Kid Blink? Yep! Kid Blink was a real guy! I'm sure a lot of you already knew that but in doing some research for this chapter I came across that interesting little tid bit. Thought that I'd share :D

Also! I'm putting a fair amount of research into this story in terms of the timeline. Actually there was no laws on underage drinking around 1901 and prostitution laws were not created until round-a-bout 1910.

Chapter Four

The Sympathy Drum

For being so ridiculously drunk the previous night, Spot Conlon found him wide awake just as the first orange rays of the sun were gracing the skyline. He had not come with anything he could remember but he was certainly leaving with something. He had been solidly sloshed the night before but Angelic's voice seemed to be tacked into his brain.

"You'll find them. I just know it."

It was odd how strange a feeling those simple words had evoked within him. Now suddenly he wasn't exactly optimistic but he was certainly curious. Questions were now filling his mind - Would he find either Reina or Kid if he dared to step foot into Staten? Wouldn't it be worth trying? Could he at least find closure? He rubbed his temples with one hand while sitting on the side of the mattress. This had definitely been the first time in a long time that he had indulged himself so in liquor without awaking to a splitting headache. He glanced at the brown bottle of medicine that Angelic had insisted he take. He briefly considered the idea of taking it with him, after all it would be damn useful for future uses, but something inside of him restricted him from doing so. There had been a high chance that if Angelic had not taken him in that he would have been the by-product of a good solid beating from the angry man known as Murray. He also would have had the cold, hard ground for a bed instead of a warm mattress. "And a hell of a headache," he thought and sighed and tossed the bottle onto the bed. He wasn't really a man of morals but taking advantage of this situation surely would've earned him a high spot in hell.

"Funny how I never really had a conscience until Reina came around," he thought and that very thought forced a bitter laugh out of him. It was impossible to say why he missed her so much because certainly he had been a different man without her, maybe even better off. For the first time in a while he felt a stab of frustration accompany the thought of Reina. Oh hell, what was that saying? "The heart wants what it wants," he thought and smiled. That'd had always very much applied to him but now his heart desired something other than drink, women and power. "Well, maybe still power," he thought honestly and stood from the mattress. On his way out, Spot lightly tapped the bedroom door and saw two figures snuggled under the warm bedding. He hurried out without another hesitation. His instincts told him that if he was still here when Angelic's mother awoke, there'd be heavy hell to pay and lots of bitching.

***

It had only taken Spot a couple of hours to find his way back to the Manhattan lodging house and it was mostly thanks to his street smarts. Even though he had let his legs carry him to places unknown, Spot Conlon would always know a thing or two about finding his way around New York.

"Hey! Spot!" a voice cried out and a group of three boys eagerly rushed over to him once he stepped inside.

"Where've ya been?" asked a shorter, younger boy who was known as Butters back in Brooklyn. Racetrack Higgins slapped a hand on Spot's back and Spot smirked just ever so slightly. "Finally!" Racetrack said and leaned into him while chewing away at a rather large cigar. "Did ya finally get that heavy chastity belt off and get some good ass?" he said and the other couple of boys snickered. Spot closed his eyes and held up his hands, still smirking a little. "Yeah, yeah, I gotta confess to ya Race! Your sister was a lot of help in that department! She just kept beggin' for more," Spot said and opened his eyes to look directly at Race with a smug smile. "And I just kept givin' it to her," Spot tacked on and Race withdrew the cigar from his mouth momentairly and pointed a finger at Spot. "Hey!!"

The other boys and some who overheard were in heavy fits of laughter and a couple slapped Spot on the back in a congratulatory manner. "It's good to have you back," Kid Blink whispered to Spot and Spot tilted his head. It was true that he had certainly felt much livelier than he had in the last few months but was he really back to him old self again?

"I second that," Jack Kelly said while strolling over. He smiled at Spot as he past and leaned into Racetrack and swiped the cigar from his fingers. "I told ya and Kloppman has told ya, no smoking these things in here," Jack said sternly and stepped back. Since Jack was well beyond the average age for selling papers, he had since taken a position in helping Kloppman run the lodging house. As Kloppman was getting on in age, Jack seized the opportunity to help him out and still be able to keep an eye on his boys.

"It wasn't lit!" Race argued and snatched at the stolen cigar. Jack held it out of his reach, having always been taller than Race. "Geeze," Race said while now backing off. "You're worse than my mother!"

"Oh yeah? Funny you should say cause she said the same thing about you while I was in her bed last night," Jack countered and the other boys began to laugh again and Race, for his part, just rolled his eyes. "Yeah very funny wise ass. First my sister and now my mother. Anyone else wanna take shots at my family!? Maybe my grandma next?!" Race shouted.

"I caught her in bed with your buddy Kloppman here. It made great headlines," a new voice chimed in. The boys looked over to the person entering room and most were still laughing. It only added to the hilarity when Kloppman, who was also a part of the crowd, made lewd kissing sounds at the air. Race looked like he would be sick.

"Denton," Jack said with a smirk and approached the man. Bryan Denton had a smile that could charm a snake and a face that made you want to trust him. "Long time no see Dents," Spot said and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Well, it's a profound pleasure to see you too Spot," Denton said and chuckled lightly, "But why are you looking at me like I'm hiding a gun?"

"Are ya?" Spot shot back and to that Denton opened the sides of his beige-colored suit coat, revealing the inside and shrugged whilst still holding the coat open. He then laughed and for the first time in a long time, Spot laughed with him. Spot approached Denton and thrust a hand forward. Denton gripped it and shook it firmly.

"So what do we owe the pleasure old man?" Spot asked but meant the entire statement jokingly. Denton didn't break eye contact his Spot but he laughed a little. "Oooh," he put a hand to his chest and feigned injury at being called an "old man."

"Well, actually, I'm here because Jack told me that you could really be using my help," Denton then glanced at Jack who nodded in agreement. "That and that it was about a story that would, as he put it, 'put another suit on my back'," he said and smiled kindly again. "So here I am!" he said and spread his hands out wide.

Spot glanced at Jack and his brow furrowed in confusion. Spot was rarely pleased when plans were made that concerned him without his knowing so. "What's this all about Kelly?" Spot demanded roughly and Jack stepped closer to Spot. He knew Spot was pissed because otherwise he wouldn't have used such a rough way of addressing Jack. Jack stepped in front of Spot and faced him head on.

"Now before ya go and get your panties in a bunch lemme explain. I asked Denton here on your behalf," he explained and leaned into Spot so that he could now whisper the next part in his ear. "I did it hopin' that it would snap you outta this funk you been since Brooklyn," Jack said quietly so that only he and Spot could hear. He pulled back and continued. "I heard your story and came up with this plan. A plan that involves our good pal Denton here," Jack said and stepped back towards Denton who was presently in the process of taking a sip of water from a glass. "I figured if anyone could tell your story it'd be old Denton here," Jack said and gave Denton a hearty slap on the back. Denton promptly choked up some of his water partly from the slap and partly from being called "old" twice in one day. "Ain't that right Dents?" Jack said proudly. Denton immediately set the glass down on a nearby table. He coughed a couple more times then made a face, "Ah, yes. To elaborate, Spot," Denton said and took a giant step away from Jack Kelly who still wore a wide, proud grin.

"I understand you've had some trouble with a Mr. Edward Vanderbelt, right?" Denton asked and narrowed his eyes. It was a look Spot had seen Denton use before when he was working out the details in his head.

"Yeah? So? The guy's a monster," Spot said sourly and before he could continue Denton cut him off.

"Exactly! Edward Vanderbelt's reputation and what he does is no secret to anyone but he keeps the police paid well and no other reporter is brave enough to dare and write an article on him," Denton explained with his voice rising slightly in excitement.

"And you are?" Spot asked and leaned against a nearby pole, his arms crossed in a un-convinced sort of way.

"It's not any crazier than helping a group of kids go up against one of the biggest newspaper tycoons in New York, is it?" Denton asked with a playful smile and Spot had to nod. "Okay, point well said," Spot said calmly. "What's your plan Dents?"

Denton now focused solely on Spot and spoke slowly, like he was sharing a juicy secret. "I'm going to beat the sympathy drum while taking down one of New York's seediest business men that ever existed."

"Sympathy drum? What the hell is that?" Spot asked while screw up his face in confusion.

"It's another way of saying getting sympathy. You know, ah," he paused to consider how to explain it. "Another term is 'drumming up sympathy' it simply means that I'm going to tell your story and make you the victim. At the same time, I have a young guy like you testify against Vanderbelt," Denton promptly hesitated. "Ah, that is if you don't mind."

"Testify? That's all? I'll do you one better and shove by shoe so far up his ass that he'll taste dirt," Spot said with seething anger at the mere thought of the man known as Vanderbelt.

"That," Denton said and held up his hand, "That won't be quite necessary. It won't just be you Spot. I want to talk to everyone here who lived at Brooklyn and I want tears."

"I ain't cryin'," Spot said and raised a single eyebrow.

"You don't have to literally cry but the sadder and sappier the better. I want to hear about how poor, innocent-" at that most of the boys in the lodging house snickered and snorted. Denton continued and put emphasis on his next words, "INNOCENT, boys who just barely manage to scrape by, have now lost everything, what little they had. How Vanderbelt helped to exploit you and put you out on the streets," Denton was practically yelling now. "And then in the process we expose his business in illegal kidnapping and under-age prostitution."

"That's all fine and dandy but the name Spot Conlon and the word 'innocent' don't exactly make good bedmates," Race chimed in and glanced to Spot. "No offense or nothin' Spot," and Spot simply shrugged. He couldn't fight the truth.

"Yeah well that's why you guys gotta keep your noses clean in the meantime. I'm not working this story to appeal to the lower class," Denton said this sort of sheepishly but none of the boys took offense. They all knew where they stood in terms of the social class totem pole.

"We need the religious groups and the wealthy to read this and feel terrible for you guys. My hope is that with a little luck and a hell of a good story, not only will we be able to shut down Vanderbelt but we may also be able to get the Brooklyn newsboy lodging house re-built, mostly by donations," Denton finished explaining and picked up the glass of water once more.

"We'll get you back to Brooklyn Spot. With Denton on your side ya can't lose!" Jack beamed and went to slap Denton on the back again. Denton hurriedly stepped forward to avoid Jack's forceful pat and quickly swallowed his gulp of water.

Spot considered everything Denton had said and thought furiously to find anything within that plan that may not work. Spot liked to be thorough when strategizing. "Yeah but who's gunna take my word against Vanderbelt's?" Spot inquired.

"Well that is why I need you to keep your nose clean. Stay out of trouble, just for the time being. When my article is done and printed, it won't matter if you are Theodore Roosevelt or Chuck Nobody from Iowa. As long as I can't paint you as the victim people will take your side," Denton explained.

Spot watched Denton's expression carefully. Even he had to admit that it seemed like a good idea, fail proof maybe. However, Spot knew of many times in the past that he'd done something he thought was a good idea only to have it backfire miserably. "But what do you got left to lose?" he thought to himself and at that minute the memory of Reina came into his mind.

"Wait, Denton, I got someone who might be able to help," Spot said. "Great! Where are they?" Denton asked eagerly. Spot glanced at the floor and swallowed hard but then met Denton's gaze again. "I don't know where they are. I don't even know if she's alive," Spot confessed and then was quick to add, "Some guys from Staten were there when Brooklyn burnt. I'm going to go there and see if they took her there."

"She?" Denton asked with his curiousity piqued.

"Yeah, she was a friend of mine who was kidnapped by that snake not too long ago. She'd be able to give ya the inside scoop and all the dirty details," Spot said. Jack was the first to speak up, "Spot you can't go to Staten by yourself."

"Yeah there's some real tough guys that live there. They don't take well to other newsies wanderin' on their turf," Kid Blink chimed in as a warning.

"Yeah I use to play poker with some of those guys and let me tell ya, you think I'm bad? You can't trust any of them as far as you throw them," Race added.

"I had a friend who went there to try and talk to some of them guys and he never came back," Skittery interjected.

"All the same, I'm still going. I got two people I gotta make sure are okay," Spot said with his mind already made-up.

"Then I'm goin' too!" Butters offered. "Yeah me too!" another younger newsie named Peepers spoke up.

"No!" Spot said loudly. "What are you all deaf?! You heard Denton. We gotta keep our noses clean and you think that if I go marchin' in there with a small army backin' me that isn't going to set off alarms? Those guys will be on us quicker than bums on bread! I'm goin' alone," Spot said.

"At least let me go with ya Spot," Jack said. "You don't need an army but you need a right hand in case things get bad," he reasoned. Spot wanted to say no but Jack made a decent point.

"I wanna go," another voice piped up. A young man stepped forward out of the crowd. He was fairly handsome with shaggy blonde hair and hazel eyes along with freckles, however he looked more mature than most. Spot recognized him as one of his boys back when he had reigned over Brooklyn. He didn't remember too much about the guy other than that he liked to run his mouth a lot and one other annoying detail that he couldn't presently remember.

"The name's King," he said, introducing himself and Spot remembered that last annoying detail.