Chapter 6

*Ace's POV*

"Extry! Extry!" I yell through the crowd. A race is scheduled for later in the day, and there are more people around than usual. Few people actually acknowledge my shouting. The kitten inside my pocket mews at my shouting; I stroke its head in comfort. I find a bench and stand up on it, waving a paper in the air and raising my voice, "Naked body found dead at Grand Central! Unidentifiable! Extry!"
At last, a boy my age stops and turns, a look of interest on his face.
I smile, "Care for a pape?"
The boy swings a gold-tipped cane in his hand and ignores my question, "Where youse from?"
"Dats for me ta know, and youse ta never find out," I smirk, inwardly patting myself on the back for an attempt at a newsboy accent.
"Manhattan," the boy concludes.
I hold my chin up, "What makes youse say dat?"
He winks, "Trust me, goily."
"How do you know I'm a girl?" The accent drops. My eyes narrow and I cross my arms over my chest.
He taps his head, "Well for one thing, I can see youse blonde hair. And another," he winks again, "those clothes ain't doin' much ta hide much." It's all I can not to hit him.
The boy motions behind me, "Looks like the ol' Racetrack is comin' for youse."

I turn to where he is pointing and see Race heading for us. His hands are empty of papers and an eyebrow is raised. The two share a stiff nod in acknowledgement.
"C'mon, Ace. We'se is late for Jacobi's," Race holds my arm and tries to lead me away from the boy.
I pull away and waggle a finger between the boys, "You know each other?"
"Dear me, miss. I forgot ta introduce meself," the boy holds out his hand, "Name's Spot Conlon." I look at his hand then back at him, refusing to shake it. He purses his lips and pulls his arm back in.
Race sighs, "Spot helped us out during da strike. He got Brooklyn and other Burroughs ta join."
Spot smirks, swinging that cane again, "I also flushed out ol' Racetrack here in cards. Ain't dat right?"
Race steps closer to Spot, nose to nose, "Youse cheated, and youse knows it!"

As Spot raises his cane threateningly, I jump between the two, "Hold it, you two! We don't need any of this." I put either hand on their chests, pushing them away from each other, "You boys just proved to the world that you're mature and can handle yourselves. The last thing the newsies need is a fight breaking out." Neither of them break eye contact, but I can tell that they heard me.
Now I'm the one pulling Race's arm, "Like you said, let's go. I'm gonna be late for my shift."
Race complies and we walk away. He suddenly stops in his tracks. A grin is plastered on his face as he looks at me, then back at Spot, "I'se got an idea." He turns and hurries to catch up with Spot, who's walking the opposite direction.
"A rematch," Race says as he catches up with Spot.
"'Scuse me?" Spot raises an eyebrow, leaning on his cane.
"Youse heard me. A rematch. Only it won't be me," Race smirks. My eyes widen as I realize his plan. He continues, "Youse is gonna play Ace."
Spot glances at me, "A goil? I'm not so sure dat's a fair game."
I put my hands on my hips, "Scared to lose?"
He looks me up and down and I glower at him. He smirks yet again, "You're on." He spits into one palm and holds it out.
I grimace, looking at the hand and then Race for his opinion. He nods, urging me on. I sigh, clapping my own spit-covered hand with Spot's.

"Oh my God, Race. What just happened?" I ask as we ride the trolley back to Manhattan. We agreed with Spot to have him come to the Lodging House tomorrow night at eight. Could he bring some of his own boys? Yes, that was fine. Will he be ready to pay back everything he "cheated" Race out of? Ha, only if the girl wins. I nervously pet the kitten in my lap.
Race throws an arm around my shoulders, "Ah, it won't be dat bad."
"I don't even know this guy!"
"You didn't know Jack or any of us when you played that first night," he counters.
I sink down in the bench, "That was different."
"How so?"
"I actually volunteered to do it!" My voice raises and the other passengers give us questioning looks. I lower my voice to a whisper, "And I wasn't fighting for someone else's pay."
"Oh, c'mon. That's what friends are for! Best friends!" He looks at me hopefully. "Please, Ace?"
I roll my eyes, "Fine." I look down at the kitten in my lap, "Will she be okay in the Lodging House?"
"The cat?" Race shrugs, "Jack can't say no to a cat." He fiddles with a furry ear, "What youse gonna name it?"
I hold her up, looking into her blue eyes, "Ducky."
"Ducky?"
"I had a toy when I was little. A gray cat that looked just like her. I named it Ducky."
He nods slowly, "Okay... but Ducky?"
"I was seven!"
Race smirks, "Whatever youse says."

The trolley driver calls out our stop. Race grabs the handful of papers I was unable to sell and we hop off the trolley, making our way towards Jacobi's. Within a block of the deli, I can hear the newsies inside, catching up on how the morning went and ordering food. We walk inside and they call us over to their table in the back corner.
"Here," I say, pulling Ducky out from my pocket, "Take her. I need to change."
Race takes the kitten and joins the boys. I go to the back room behind the deli counter, where a working dress and apron wait for me. Brooms and supplies clutter the floor of the room, and a mirror stands in one corner. I begin to undress but catch myself in the mirror.
My bare torso is pale and my ribs jut out a little. Freckles dot my arms and shoulders and appear again on my legs. I take a step closer to the mirror. The damage is visible now. Scratches line my arms and legs. A few bumps and bruises leave purple marks on my knees and elbows. All minor injuries. But the scars on my shoulders are anything but minor.

I take a breath and look away from the mirror, refusing any thoughts into my head. Just get dressed and get to work. My hands fumble with the buttons on the dress, but I finally get them fastened. I remove my cap, shaking my hair down and massaging my roots. Brushing my hair with one hand and grabbing my apron with the other, I return to the dining room. The newsies wolf-whistle at me as I emerge. I roll my eyes and set off to clean the empty tables and take orders.
After a half hour of work, Jack calls to me, "Hey, Ace." He waves me over.
"I've got work to do, Cowboy," I walk to their table despite my argument.
"You got a cat?" Ducky sits on his lap, playing with a shoestring that was found on the ground.
I put my hands on my hips, "Yes."
"Why'd you do that?"
"I need something enjoyable living in a house with you boys." A chorus of "Hey!" and "We ain't dat bad!" rings out and caps are thrown at me. I put my hands up, "Kidding, only kidding." Turning back to Jack, I put on my best begging face, "Can she stay? Please, Cowboy?"
Jack smiles as Ducky rubs against his hand, "It's your cat. Youse gotta feed it."
"There's always leftovers in the icebox," I say, pointing my thumb behind me. "Anyway, I gotta get back to work. You boys heading home soon?"
Race nods, "I'll wait for youse."
I smile, "I know it." I start to turn away but quickly stop myself, "Hey, Racetrack, why don't you tell them 'bout the little party tomorrow night? With Spot?"

A loud "WHAT?!" echoes throughout the deli as I laugh and return to bussing tables and delivering food to the rightful customers. The day passes and nothing eventful happens. Most of the newsboys leave, calling their goodbyes to the others and me. I look back at the table to see only Race, Jack, and Crutchie remaining.
"You can go ahead and go, Ace," Mr. Jacobi tells me from behind the counter.
"You sure?" I ask, not looking away from the stain on the floor I was scrubbing.
He chuckles, "That spot will be there tomorrow. I'm sure there are other things you'd rather do tonight."
I smile and stand up, "Thank you, sir."
The three boys at the back table stand up and I excuse myself into the back room to change into my other outfit, avoiding the mirror in the corner at all costs. Mr. Jacobi hands me my day's pay when I finish dressing and I exit with Race, Jack, and Crutchie.

"So youse is gonna play Spot tomorrow night? The Spot Conlon?" Crutchie asks as we make our way back to the Lodging House in the dimming sunlight.
"Unless there's another Spot I don't know of, that's the one."
Crutchie shakes his head in wonder, "Youse got nerve, Ace."
"Hey, it wasn't my doing," I argue, "Race signed me up for it." I throw a look in Race's direction. He shrugs it off with a puff of the cigar that now hangs from his mouth.

And that's when I see her.
The tall, straight-back stature of the first class. The dark blonde hair, pulled tightly back in a tight bun. The fierce green eyes, judging anyone and everyone of a lesser class than she.
I see her.
And she sees me.
The moment is short, but also infinite. I stop in my track and it takes a few paces for the other three to notice and look back at me. But I see only her. Her eyes lock with mine. Her brow knits together in a mix of recognition, shock, and confusion.
And then I run.
"Ace! What the hell! Ace! Wait!" Race yells after me. But I ignore him.
Angry shouts are thrown out as I push random passerby out of my way. But I don't stop until I reach the Lodging House, and even then I race up the fire escape to the roof.

I haven't seen her in three years.
My mother.

A/N: Oooooh, it's getting intense now! ;) Soon you'll find out Ace's past! I'm getting so excited and I hope you are, too.
What do you think of the kitten's name?
Please review!
But seriously.
Review.
Please?