Alright. This chapter actually reveals a lot about why Rice is knowing so much. As a note: Jacob Riis was a real person. After you're done reading, for more info, go to wikipedia. While my facts on him are not totally real, my fictional JR is based on the real one. Don't forget to review!


Rice chose a nearly deserted corner and pulled out a worn journal. Scribbling a few thoughts in it, she soon grew bored and flipped back to the beginning of the book.

Uncle Jacob told me that if I wanted to be a writer, I needed to learn what life was about. I'd given him several of my stories, and he said they had potential. But he said my whole life had been sheltered. If I wanted to change the world, I needed to know what it had to offer me. He was the one who suggested I come back to New York.

Rice sighed, and flipped forward several pages. She scanned entry after entry, detailing the life on the streets. Nearly every newsie in New York was mentioned in this chronicle. She knew something about everyone, it was true. Continuing her whirl of pages, she stopped at one written only a few weeks prior. Glancing at the date, she saw it was the day she'd talked David into rejoining the strike.

I saw that boy today. David Jacobs. Of course he would have the same name as Dividend. Off topic. He was really dead set against keeping the fire going. Doesn't he realize how much this meant to the working class? This is their life. Just because David has had a perfect life doesn't mean the rest of his friends have. He seemed like he was wondering why winning the strike was so hard. I came up with a theory, and I wish I could share it with someone. As I can't, I'll just tell you. I think that the reasons stumbling blocks are put in our way is to see if what we're aiming for is really worth fighting for. And that's the truth.


The supper table around David was filled with lively chatter. Jack and Les were taking turns showing off for Sarah who was egging each of them on, and Meyer and Esther were discussing the plausibility of attending their niece's wedding. No one seemed to notice David's lack of conversation or his apparent moodiness. He was fine with that. The meal ended and after helping to clear the table, the silent Mouth stepped out on to the fire escape. Moments later, he heard shuffling behind him and knew that Jack and Sarah had followed him.

"Davey, whatsamatta with you?" Jack inquired. Sarah looked concerned.

"Nothin'," he muttered.

"Liar." Sometimes David hated his sister for being perceptive. Why couldn't she be dumb and clueless like the other girls in their neighborhood? They would have believed nothing was wrong and gone about with their business. David found himself unexpectedly surrounded on either side by his sister and friend, enclosing their hands around him.

"Hey, hey now. Enough of the mushy stuff. Especially around me." The couple smirked at him.

"Tell us what's wrong," Sarah demanded in a singsong voice.

"No."

"Now," Jack put in.

"No."

"Yes," Sarah demanded.

"No!" Their response was joined this time.

"Yes!"

"If I do will you kindly remove your hands?" David grimaced at his awkward embrace. Jack and Sarah obligingly released him. David sank to the floor and stuck his legs over the edge of the fire escape. The others mimicked his movements, albeit Sarah was much more graceful.

"Talk." Jack stared at his friend, sympathy already building. David sighed.

"It's this… girl."

"Brown hair, about your height, blue dress?"

"You know her?" David suspiciously asked his sister.

"Sure," she replied. "It's kind of hard to miss you spending every spare moment with her. Don't know her name though."

"Rice," David said softly, savoring the flavor of her name. Jack smirked.

"Wondered if you were ever going to introduce us. Boots is the only one who's had a chance to talk to her, other than you." David shook his head at the comment.

"I don't know if she wants to be introduced. But she definitely knows you. And Skitts. And Blink. And Mush. And…"

"We get it, she knows everyone," Sarah interrupted, eager to get to the point. "What about her?" David squirmed. He'd hoped they would forget the reason the topic had been brought up.

"I'm, um, kind of dating her." Two mouths fell open simultaneously. Jack was the first to recover.

"David! I'm proud of you! Didn't know you had it in you to actually ask a girl out."

"That makes two of us," David muttered. Sarah smiled, still unsure about how to react.

"What about Danielle?" Jack leaned forward to get a better look at his girl.

"Who's Danielle?" he asked.

"No one," David cut in. "Just… this other girl. From before." Jack wisely allowed the subject to drop and looked up at the night sky.

"Well, tell us about her. Tell us about you!" Sarah petitioned. David smiled wryly.

"She's madly in love with Spot Conlon." Jack couldn't help it. He started laughing- barking really. Then he began sputtering.

"Let me get this straight, Davey. You've got a girl- a great girl. And she's got it bad for Brooklyn?"

"It isn't that funny," David muttered bitterly. Sarah looked at him with pity.

"And she doesn't realize how much you like her?" she asked.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure she does. She's a pretty good kisser after she's just had a crying fit."

"David!" The shout came from both. Jack sounded impressed; Sarah shocked. David shrugged.

"I just don't know how to prove that I'm better for her than Spot." The trio fell silent for a moment, examining the stars. Suddenly, Sarah smiled. Leaning behind her brother, she whispered in Jack's ear. Jack paused a moment before nodding in affirmation.

"So, David," she began. "How does this Rice like singing?"

Meanwhile, across the Brooklyn Bridge…

"Serenade her? Come on, Mince. You've got to be kidding me." Mince shrugged.

"You asked. Just an idea. You met a girl yet who can resist the sound of a guy who can sing?" Spot paused.

"Well, no…"

"See? It'd be perfect!" Spot rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to the docks," he declared, taking leave of Mince. As he strode through his borough, he was thinking. It might. It just might work.

Back in Manhattan…

David left the two lovebirds sitting on the fire escape after shaking his head at their crazy idea. But as he walked across the apartment to his bedroom, he began to think. It might. It just might work.


Rice couldn't get comfortable. She'd slept in alleyways before. Almost every night for an entire year, she'd slept on the streets. But never after she'd been kissed twice in one day. Can't sleep. Might as well get some work done. Rice pulled herself up and checked to make sure she still had her notebook. Now, to see if I can talk to "Aunt" Medda.

Medda's vaudeville was well lit. As Rice watched, a large amount of people began to flow through the doorways. The show must have just ended, Rice deduced. Slipping through the crowd, she stopped just inside the entry way to the auditorium. Throughout the building, workers were already beginning to pick up the trash left from the audience.

Picking her way through the seats, Rice found a side door that looked like it led backstage. Casually turning her head, she affirmed no one was watching or caring what she did. The door surprisingly didn't squeak as it was pushed open, and Rice let herself through.

It took her a moment to adjust to the sudden darkness. As she was able to see in the dim light, Rice noted she was surrounded by… everything. Dresses strewn across chairs, hats, makeup, gloves. It looked like a tornado had been the one to tidy up last. Taking a step closer to a vanity, Rice attempted to examine the stage makeup, but heard a voice echoing in the hallway leading to her backstage room.

"Now, Toby, I need you to get that order placed today, or we'll never get them in time for…" The feminine voice trailed off and Rice looked up guiltily.

"What are you doing here?" A fat man demanded. Rice gathered her senses and looked toward the lady.

"Ma'am, are you Medda Larkson?"

"Yes, yes I am. Now I must ask you to leave. You are in a private room."

"Ma'am, I'd like to talk to you about the newsies." Medda paused, a smile playing on her face.

"Are you a friend or an enemy of the street rats?" Rice cocked her head at the term, but answered as calmly as she could.

"In my clothing, do you truly think I could do anything to harm them?" Medda watched Rice, face smoothed into an impassive state. Rice sighed. "They are my friends."

Medda glanced at Toby. "What are you still doing here? I thought I told you to go make out those orders!" Toby looked like he was about to protest, then thought better of it and excused himself.

"Now," she continued to Rice, settling herself into a chair, "what can I do for you…?"

"Rice."

"Rice," Medda repeated. "Jack give you the name?" Rice shook her head, also pulling up a seat near the beautiful lady.

"David did." Medda's eyes widened slightly.

"That boy with the adorable younger brother?" Rice avoided the question.

"Miss Larkson…"

"Medda, please, call me Medda."

"Medda, then. I'd like to ask you some questions. About the newsies." The singer's face tightened.

"What… what sort of questions?"

"About who they are. Their ways of life."

"Are you with the police?" Medda sounded angry. Rice hastened to alleviate her fears.

"No! Ma'am, I told you. These boys are my friends. Sort of."

"Sort of?" She sounded like she was accusing Rice.

"I mean…"

"You better start talking. Those boys are like my children."

"Those boys are like my friends! And I can't get enough information on them to suit my uncle!"

"Who's your uncle?" Medda stood, danger in her attitude.

"Jacob Riis, ever heard of him?" Rice knew she was being rude, but she couldn't help feeling defensive. Medda sat down abruptly.

"Jacob… Riis?"

"Lived in New York for the longest time. About six years ago moved to Boston. But he's coming back. Soon."

"Your uncle is The Jacob Riis?" Medda sounded like a woman in a dream. Rice realized what had just slipped out of her mouth.

"Yes, but you can't tell anyone!"

"Why are you here?"

"I'm…" Rice paused, and finally decided to confess to the newsies dearest friend. "I'm writing a story. On the newsies and how they live. How they survive day after day on the harsh streets of New York."

"You said they were your friends." Medda's anger had vanished, leaving a calm temperament in it's wake.

"They… weren't supposed to be."

"Oh?" Rice nibbled her finger nail as she continued.

"It was… supposed to be a simple assignment. Uncle Jacob told me to live on the streets for one year. That would make me a better writer because I could write from experience. Then… he'd told me to write about a group of people. I chose the newsies."

"Why?" Rice looked up at Medda.

"Because that's what Dividend always said he wanted to be."


A cigarette dangled casually from Jack's fingers as David crawled out of his bedroom window. Sarah had long since retired. Neither boy spoke as the night chill seeped into their clothing. The smoke curled up, twisting and contorting into strange images before drifting away, swallowed up by the world's vast space.

"So." David didn't respond. Jack was quiet for another moment before continuing. "Why were you upset at supper?" Again he was greeted by silence. Jack sighed. "You don't get angry because your girl is in love with Spot. If you did, every girl in the city would be off limits," he explained logically.

"No. You don't."

"So…" David eyed his friend.

"She lies just as much as you do." Jack gave a half snort as he considered these words. David sure wasn't having much luck in his friend choices. Jack knew that he himself certainly was not the most trusted newsie in the city after his stunt several weeks prior.

"Lying… As in… how?"

"As in told me her life story and finding out it's a bunch of fairy tales. I'm presuming that it is, anyway, considering her 'non-relationship' with Spot was a load of bologna." David sighed deeply, leaning over the railing. "It's just like… I want to trust her. I like her… I love her! But…"

"You hate liars."

"Basically."

"She knows you know about her lying?"

"I guess. But it seems like it doesn't matter to her. She's got me wrapped around her finger! When I was talking to her about this, she seemed to know exactly what I was going to say. It irked me, but still, I was impressed at the same time!"

"She says jump and you ask how high?" Jack quirked. David laughed a little.

"You got that right." Or, he thought, she says kiss and you ask 'how long'. "Look, Jack. I'm going to head inside. I'll see you later." Jack waved as his friend climbed back through the window. Shaking his head, he descended the stairs.

I don't think I'm going to like this girl, he decided. But then again, no liar ever trusts another.


Another Mary Sue quality foiled! Jack doesn't like her... buhahaha...

Anyway. Please review when your finished. I actually do write more when the chapters are well received.