New York Rebellion
By: PrinceOfNewYork
Chapter 7: Baseball has Declared War on Your Bakery
Summary: When faced with power, the little people have been known to commonly back down. But when one person has an idea, and has the power to get everyone involved great things can happen. How will giants fair when the little people fight as one?
Disclaimer: A lot of these are original newsies, created by yours truly. However, several are from the movie as well. If you don't know which ones those are, go watch the movie, or simply ask me.
A/N: This is the sequel to my first shot at a Newsie fic, but Prince is my main character, and my absolute favorite as well. Besides, I couldn't just end my first story where I did without having a sequel, that wouldn't be fair at all. So, thank you in advance to all who read this!
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The five of them stood in the alley way for quite some time, hoping and praying they weren't going to get in trouble for this. They stayed in the alley behind the lodging house for Spot and two other Brooklyn boys to join them. From the alley way they could all hear the baker from down the street slam the door on the lodging house, and yell at the top of his lungs for the owner of the Manhattan Lodging House, Mr. Kloppman.
The baker, Mr. Gram, was a large man. He was often dressed in a white coat with two rows of buttons, and a black apron that draped down in front of him. He stood no more than 5' 9" and was about as big around as he was tall. His hair was white as his big coat, and so was his mustache. He had a low deep voice, like a bass instrument, and when he was angry, like he was just now, it seemed as though the instrument went out of tune.
"Mr. Kloppman! I have a bone to pick with you!" he called loudly once more. The boys who had run into the lodging house off the street when Jack broke the window jumped a good foot in the air at his loud voice, and they were upstairs.
Kloppman's appearance, on the other hand, was almost the exact opposite of Gram's. He seemed nothing but skin and bones, and quite tall as well. He was a kinder man than Gram as well. As far as tone was considered Kloppman almost always had a gentle voice, though it could be forceful, and it was a bad idea to mess with Kloppman, it was doubtful he'd ever hurt a mouse.
"Oh, hello Mr. Gram," Kloppman said as he quietly came down the stairs. All the boys upstairs were listening intently. Others who had remained out side found a window, or cracked the door open slightly so they could hear. The kids in the back alley, behind the lodging house peaked over the window sill to see if they could hear the conversation. Jack was especially interested to know how much trouble he was in this time.
"Don't you 'hello Mr. Gram' me. Explain this," he said as he held out the baseball.
"Well that's a baseball Mr. Gram. Anyone can see that."
"I know what it is! Why do you think I have it?"
Kloppman thought for a moment. "Well, if you are interested in a game you may want to ask the boys. They'd be happier and more willing to play than I would."
"I do not want to play a game! This came through my front window, and landed right in a loaf of bread!"
"Well why on earth would a ball do something like that? I'm afraid you're not making much sense Mr. Gram. Unless baseball has declared war on your bakery, I don't see the issue."
"It's an issue because one of your boys hit it! This will be the third time this month. I'll have to fix the window again!"
"Well… simply take the windows out. Then you won't have to fix them. Then everyone will smell all the goods you make. I bet it would even help business!"
"And without windows I would have thieves like the boys that stay here breaking in every night."
Kloppman's jaw tightened. "I'll have you know the boys that stay here are no thieves, they work as honest and hard as you. They are simply trying to stay alive like the rest of us.
Gram looked angrily up at the face of Kloppman. "Well, I expect a full payment, once again. I do have to replace the window, and I think the person who broke it should be the one responsible. We've been through this several times, and you still haven't told me who is hitting those long balls and breaking my windows… and if I knew I'd discipline him myself. But payment will do for now…" Gram huffed angrily, his face red as the strawberries in his strawberry shortcake.
"That's right Mr. Gram. I'll have the money for you by the end of the week as usual."
"Fine… just fine then," Gram turned away from Kloppman and stomped back towards the door. By this time whole heads could be seen in the windows, boys sitting on each other's shoulders to hear and see the goings on. Boys had even been so bold as to come and sit on the stairs and lean against the railing to hear better.
Gram stopped only to turn around, and open the door before he said. "Good day, Mr. Kloppman." He then faced forward and as he left he slammed the door again. This caused all the boys to disappear from sight both on the street and from the windows, and also sent Boots and Les tumbling to the ground floor as the stair railing broke in two.
Kloppman sighed and groaned at the same time. "You boys okay?" he askes as he walked over to the small news boys, now face down on the floor.
"Yeah…" Boots said as he slowly got to his feet.
"Me too," said Les as he did the same. "Sorry about the railing though."
"It's alright," Kloppman said examining it. "It can be replaced. Now… where is everyone else?" he asked, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer to that question before he even asked it.
Snipeshooter appeared in the window tentatively. "Hi…" he said quietly before he waved slightly.
Kloppman sighed again. "Alright, I want every newsboy that can hear me to come inside as quickly and soon as possible…"
The front door opened as several boys came inside. Others simply climbed in the windows; others came down from the upstairs. All of them looked a little scared, for they knew this was all their fault… mostly Jack's fault, but it was all their faults.
"Alright…" Kloppman said once every last one was inside. "First of all… who won?"
"We tied," Mush spoke up. "I didn't think to run home, and I doubt Davey rounded the bases that fast, so the last score was eight to eight."
"Well geese boys. Can't even finish a game anymore! Second of all, who was it this time?"
"It was me again Kloppman," Jack said speaking up without fear.
"And I don't suppose there's going to be anyway for you to get up the money for Mr. Gram by the end of the week is there?"
"With the strike? Kloppman, dere's no way I could even have half of it by da end of next week! Unless da strike ends before then."
He nodded. "I thought so. Well, then, I assume you all know what we're going to have to do. B'sides, it's been a good two weeks since you last did this Jack. I'll get a list of chores for Jack to do. He's welcome to enlist any and all help that anyone offers. That is, unless he'd rather pay off his debt himself. I've got a good list started. Maybe you ought to get started on them."
Jack nodded. "Sounds fair. I mean, I could get most of it done in four hours…I think," he said nodding.
"Good! Then I'll get the list," Kloppman said. He then went off towards the front desk to see if he could locate that list of things that needed to be cleaned, fixed, mended, shined, or anything else.
"Jack," Prince said, stepping forward slightly. "It ain't really fair, you doin' all this woik… so… we offer ya our help."
"Yeah, us too, Jack," Spot said nodding in agreement with Prince.
The Manhattan boys just smiled at their friends. Jack looked to them now. "And I suppose youse guys are gonna help as usual huh?"
Racetrack shrugged. "Hey, it's no fun without ya, and we get done faster this way. I mean, we might as well help, sooner we get done the less we hafta worry about it right?" Truth is, the Manhattan boys often helped Jack out when he had to pay off a window debt when playing baseball. They usually helped anyone who had to pay off a debt, even if he just had to mop the floor because he didn't have money to pay for the night.
Kloppman returned with the list, and handed it to Jack. The list included washing the sheets on the beds and the clothes, sweeping mopping the floor in the bunk room, and the front area. Also sweeping and mopping the stairs, dusting the mantle, cleaning the bathroom, fixing a leak in the roof that Skittery had complained about, and now replacing the hand railing on the stairs as well were on the list. They sighed slightly as they looked at all that ought to be done, and decided that they had to be getting started. True, had it just been Jack, Kloppman wouldn't have put so much on there, that was a lot to do, but it would keep them occupied for the next day or two. Besides, it already seemed that idle hands did the devil's work, and the last thing they needed was yet another broken window. The boys split up into groups. Brooklyn went to fix the roof, Manhattan would get started on the cleaning, and Queens was in charge of fixing the stair railing.
They wouldn't be done by five o'clock, but when five thirty rolled around, the railing was long since fixed, and the roof was now mended as well. The mantle had been dusted, and the floors were all swept and mopped clean. Prince had said she knew how to sew, and would fix the holes in the clothes and sheets later. The Manhattan and Brooklyn boys said they found it odd that a boy knew how to sew; Queens said that Prince had to learn because they complained all the time, though that wasn't the truth. All that was left was the laundry and cleaning the bathroom. That would keep them mostly busy through most of tomorrow. But at four thirty the boys all had their shoes on, sleeves rolled up and hats on. They had an evening edition to stop, and a celebration dinner to attend.
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And that's the chapter that I owed you on Friday. Sorry, I had prom this weekend, so I'm going to give you the one for monday right now. See you at the next chapter.